


The Heart of Aphrodite

by moondim



Category: IT (2017), IT (2019), IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: A bit of a fix-it fic, F/F, F/M, Implied Lesbian Beverly Marsh, LGBTQ+ Richie Tozier, MC is implied to be LGBTQ+, Minor foreshadowing, Multi, Multiple Endings, No Kid-Orgy because i said so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2020-11-01 12:13:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 57,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20814962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moondim/pseuds/moondim
Summary: (The Loser's Club Various! X Fem! Reader)What's better than being in the 80's? Well, getting to know the existence of a killer clown and fighting racism and homophobia while everyone is pining for you.Sounds like a typical Sunday to me.(Also available in Quotev under "Mature"-rating. The first three chapters are just fillers.)





	1. A New Sight

As humans, we tend to worry about many things.

Our appearance, our personality, our family that is moving into a whole new state without even explaining to your children first.

It just sorta happens.

"Uh," (Y/N) intelligently let out, staring at her new house. It was okay, with a window peeking through upstairs of the house. She immediately shouldered her bag tightly upon noticing it slipping from her shoulder.

The girl scratched her head. It wasn't so bad. Her brother and sister were already getting accustomed, though shocked and irritated at first.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Her sister demanded when the roadtrip began, an angry frown on her face.

Their mother only offer a desperate glance, "Please, (S/N), calm down. Isn't it good to move into a new area?"

(Y/N) only scratch her head more at the memory. It is kinda awkward to find new friends. It doesn't help the fact that she's awkward.

But how could she get mad? (Y/N) had always been the one to represses her feelings, even when the situation is about her.

All she can do is to be silent. She doesn't even know how to explain her feelings.

"(Y/N), let's go," Her father urged, carrying the heavier suitcases, "It's gonna rain soon."

One look at the grey sky, the girl was out. Well, more specifically in.

She carried her bags, placing it down in her own room. It feels weird to be alone. In the previous home, she always had shared things with her sister, with nine years age gap.

But it's nice. (S/N)'s a nice sister. They get along great, so much that their parents will always hear shouts of laughters in their room.

(Y/N) sighed. (B/N), on the other hand...

A brief knock on the door shocked her out of her thinking, and the girl looked at the door. It was her mother.

"Hey," she started as a greeting. (Y/N) glanced to see dark bags under her mother's eyes. She pitied her. Her mother had always been kind, it was just her work putting her at edge.

"I know moving into a new place is hard," her mother started, looking sad, "But it'll be better than the last. I promise you that."

"Was Indiana that bad?" (Y/N) asked. She doesn't know how it came out as a joke, but her mother laughed.

"No, sweetie, it's not. Your dad... H-he got promoted." Her mother said, her voice cheery, but it feels as if she's about to break down.

Isn't being promoted means good? Then why does (Y/N) feels like her mother just lied?

She shook the feeling away. "I'll be good, don't worry."

Her mother smiled, "I know."

And she went away, and (Y/N) only sighed through her mouth.

The two had not always been close, but (Y/N) wasn't a bad girl.

She constantly sketch on her notebooks, she always feels tongue-tied around new people, she doesn't have the best personality (being awkward isn't a personality?), and she doesn't have the best grades.

Overall, she's just extremely ordinary and boring.

She knew this, and she's pretty sure everybody knew this. And it kinda stings.

But of course, she doesn't say a word about it.

How could she, when she's just a girl with conflicted heart?


	2. Airhead

Walking to the new school, (Y/N) can't help but fiddle with her fingers.

Moving into a new place and barely knowing Derry, she felt like she might throw up. But she swallowed it down, hiding it behind the neutral expression of hers.

She hummed her favorite song, trying everything to calm her beating heart. Upon the sight of the school, her heart began beating against her chest more.

There were kids milling around, walking briskly or talking to their friend.

Her eyes slightly roamed at the sight of the groups, talking and laughing, as jealousy began to grew.

She wished she have a friend already.

Her anxiety started to kick in, and she quickly brought out her Walkman. The song rhymed with her beating heart.

The school smelt dusty. But (Y/N) pushed it aside, getting to her locker. The metal locker squeaked, and she stuffed the insides with the unnecessary items she didn't need at her first period.

Was it her or is there someone staring at her?

She turned around, (E/C) eyes looking around for her stalker. Maybe it was just her imagination. She simply pushed her locker door, and it shut with a quiet 'thud'.

* * *

First period was... something.

"Come on to front, new kid" the teacher, Mr. Jason, said with a smile to (Y/N). Others were already situated into their seats.

The girl merely followed the teacher's order, feeling awkward. Mr. Jason land his heavy hand on (Y/N)'s shoulder, albeit her surprise and discomfort.

"This will be your new classmate," Mr. Jason began with a smile, patting the girl's shoulder, "She came all the way from New York to Derry, so be nice, class."

"The name's (Y/N)," she said, after noticing the teacher's stare on her, "New kid, obviously."

"What kind of name is that?" A girl drawled, her eyes boring into (Y/N)'s body. Distaste was apparent on her face.

Before Mr. Jason can scold her, (Y/N) shrugged, "I don't know, my mom gave me my name."

Was that the answer the girl wanted to hear? (Y/N) doesn't know.

Surprisingly, the class laughed. (Y/N) was more confused by this. Did she said something funny?

"Okay class, settle down," Mr. Jason said, until the last remaining giggles was gone. He aimed his look to the girl who asked the question, eyebrows lifted up as if he was unimpressed. "Ms. Keene, please treat your new classmate with respect."

The girl, Ms. Keene, only looked to the side.

"Go take your seat, (Y/N)." Mr. Jason said with a tired smile. The new girl only nodded.

She took a seat a row behind Ms. Keene, settling down her books and pencils.

Now eyes up front, (Y/N) noticed a tag tied to Ms. Keene's bag. It was beads, with letters of the alphabet forming a name.

_Greta._

'That's her name?' (Y/N) internally thought, before shrugging it off, 'Sounds old.'

When Greta asked her that question, she doesn't really know what to answer. Obviously, her mother gave her the name, so (Y/N) doesn't really know what to answer beside that. That was the first thing she thought of.

Doodling on her notebook, (Y/N) missed Greta giving her a dirty side-eye, before the rich girl turned back to the front.

After first period, next was History. The bell rang, and (Y/N) with the rest of the class quickly pack their notebooks and pencils back. She slid the chair back in silently unlike others, trying to be polite.

Unnoticed to her, Greta silently put her foot forward, trying to purposely trip (Y/N). The new girl only took two steps forward, before a pained cry resonated in the classroom.

(Y/N) only had a surprised look, as Greta Keene rubbed her foot. Apparently, without noticing, (Y/N) had stepped on her foot, causing a wave of pain hit Greta.

"Be careful, dude," (Y/N) calmly spoke, thinking it was an accident, "I heard that someone once broke their foot when their friend stepped on it. Get some cold ice."

The new girl calmly walked out of class, giving Greta a one last wave. The girl only gave a pained and irritated glare as a reply once (Y/N) turned away.

The rest of the class gaped. Amazed or shocked, they don't know.

"The new kid's an airhead!" One boy exclaimed.

* * *

History was... interesting. The teacher taught them about the history of America, before moving on into Japan.

(Y/N) idly swung her legs back and forth, not paying attention. She sat straight up, her back sore, before accidentally knocked her eraser from the table.

She cursed mentally, before bending down to see where it went. She looked to the right, and saw her bright pink eraser contrasting against the grey floor.

But it was right under a person: a boy, to be exact. (Y/N) tried multiple ways trying to gain his attention, before opting on a whisper.

"PSST," She whisper-yelled, and that certainly caught his attention. He looked to her, surprised, his finger pointing to himself as if in a question, 'Me?'

(Y/N) nodded, before pointing to the ground under his seat. The boy didn't understand, so she opted to write a message in her notebook.

_'Can you get my eraser?'_

She showed it to him, written in dark blue, while pointing under his desk. He finally got the clue, and searched it around. His fingers wrapped around the eraser, and brought it up.

(Y/N) quickly scribbled a note.

_'Thanks.'_

The boy smiled, and (Y/N) saw him picking up a pen and he wrote something down in his notebook.

'**No problem!' **It was written in red pen.

(Y/N) offered her own smile, and the boy quickly gave back her eraser. Just as he turned away, (Y/N) decided to scribble her name. She caught his attention again when the girl quickly tapped his shoulder using her pen.

(Y/N) showed her name, now written in her (F/C)-ink pen. The boy quickly got the idea and scribbled something in his notebook.

Again, the message was written in red, but with a smiley-face in the corner.

**'Call me Bill :)'**

(Y/N) chucked mentally at the smiley-face. She gave an easy thumbs-up as a reply to him.

Was this Bill a friend or just a acquaintance? Either way, (Y/N) doesn't mind of both.

The bell rang once again, and (Y/N) packed up her things. She turned to Bill, who was putting back his pens in his pencil box.

"Hey, Bill," she called him, and he looked quite surprised. (Y/N) gave him a smile and finger-guns, "Let's hang out after school."

And with that, she exited the class, giving the boy a wave.

Unbecknownst to (Y/N), Bill's pale cheeks began to blush, as his heart beats more than twice.

* * *

It was recess, and (Y/N) was alone. Carrying a lunchbox, she sat at the cafeteria's table alone, peacefully munching on her food.

To anyone passing by or looking, she looks sleepy and peaceful, her hands only working to pick up her lunch.

However, someone slammed down on her table, startling (Y/N) out of her trance. She looked to perpetrator. It was Greta Keene, with two girls behind her. They all looked displeased and scowling, especially Greta.

"Hi?" (Y/N) greeted, but it came out as a question more than a statement.

"You stepped my foot on purpose, didn't you?" Greta seethed, leering at the new girl.

"Nah," (Y/N) answered, which surprised Greta and her friends at her chillax answer, "Why would I stepped your foot on purpose? By the way, aren't you supposed to be applying ice on it by now?"

"Because I made fun of you in class," Greta answered, but didn't bother to answer the last question, "I made you feel ashamed, so you decided to step on my foot as revenge."

(Y/N)'s mind totally blanked out by this point. Why would she want to have revenge on someone she barely knew?

The new girl scratched her head, "I don't really feel ashamed, though. Did you mock me during class?"

Greta's friends only face-palmed at the girl's answer. Greta herself was speechless.

This girl really was an airhead.

The rich girl could only groaned, "Uuughh!"

(Y/N) could only watch her with questioning gaze. Greta sighed, before blushing.

What was she doing? Getting an agitated response to an airhead is simply useless. The fire would be easily blown out by the wind.

"Nevermind!" Greta yelled, irritated. She marched away, her two friends following her.

"Weird." (Y/N) mused to herself, before continuing to eat. 

Unknown to her, a curious blue eyes watch (Y/N) from afar.

* * *

(Y/N) shielded her eyes from the sun, trying to discern a familiar face.

It was the end of first day at school, and she was searching for Bill under waves of children. She blew a raspberry at this.

"(Y/N)!" That caught her attention, and sprinting quickly to her, was Bill.

She let him catch up to her, and he was panting when he arrived.

"I..." Bill catched his breath, "I j-j-just came o-out of class.."

(Y/N) merely patted his back softly, as Bill catch his breathe. "What happened? Did the teacher gave you a quiz or something?"

Bill nodded, before releasing a relaxed breath. "S-s-sorry that I g-guh-got caught up w-with that."

This time, (Y/N) pat him in the shoulder. "No harm's done, my dude."

Bill blushed, and before he could reply, a shout of an unknown voice interrupted him. "Bill!"

With big glasses, dark curly hair and scrawny stature, an unknown boy looked angry, especially at Bill, "You son of a bitch, wait for me and the rest of us, dude!"

"R-Richie--" Bill tried calming down the boy, but the boy, Richie, replied way more faster than him.

"Stan and I are pissed off at you for not waiting for us! Next time, say something before you zoom out of the class, you fucking ass--!"

Richie stopped his sentence, trailing off to finish the crude word. His gaze rest on (Y/N), as if she was just noticed. He gaped openly.

The new girl could only reply with a wave and a "Hi".

"Richie," Bill snapped him from his trance, "T-this is (Y/N), sh-she's new here."

Richie, still wide-eyed and surprised, uttered something surprising, "Dude! You're hot!"

(Y/N) could only scratch her neck, "Thanks, I guess..."

Richie tried hugging her as a greeting, but someone stopped him.

"Whoa!" Richie yelped. (Y/N) saw another boy, with an irritated expression and holding the loud boy back by his bag.

"Richie, what did I said about personal space?" The irritated boy asked, giving Richie a stern glare.

"What?! It was just a polite greeting!" The glasses boy protested.

The irritated boy shook his head, before turning to (Y/N). His expression softened, "Sorry about him, he's just... Well, I have no idea how to defend him."

"Hey!"

"It's okay," (Y/N) replied, "I'm (Y/N), by the way."

"Stan," the irritated boy, now Stan, introduced himself with a slight smile. (Y/N) brought out her hand, and he seemed surprised by this.

He finally took it, hesitantly wrapping his hand around hers just as she did with his.

The silence was broken by Richie.

"You've never touched a girl's hand before, Stan the Man?" Richie snarked, smirking.

Stan could only gave him an embarassed glare. "Shut up, Richie."

(Y/N) surprisingly laughed, which shocked the boys. "You guys seem close."

"You c-could s-s-say that," Bill said, smiling half-hearted.

Richie sighed, "It sucks that Eddie can't be here."

"Another friend of yours?" (Y/N) asked Bill, and he nodded.

"H-his m-mom won't l-let him g-g-go to school t-today because he n-needs a new inhaler."

Richie scoffed, "He's just a big-old pussy without his inhaler!"

"B-b-beep beep, Richie," Bill warned. The boy only pouted.

* * *

After waving goodbye to the three boys, (Y/N) entered her home.

Now rid of her shoes and socks, she quickly took a shower upstairs. Her footsteps resonated against the wooden floor.

Entering the bathroom, it looked decent, with a shower head and a glass-sliding door. (Y/N) hung her towel on the door handle, and quickly rinsed away the grimes and dirt with the showerhead.

Shutting off the shower, (Y/N) grabbed her towel and wrapped it around her. She wiped her wet face on her towel.

Humming to herself, she missed the eerie message written behind her back, forming letters with the use of blood.

**"Welcome to Derry :)!"**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my fingers? sore. mc? stupid. hotel? trivago


	3. The Lucky but Oblivious Fool

[SWEATPANTS ](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=ExVtrghW5Y4)

(Y/N) stared.

There was strangely blood on the wall of the shower door. It was dripping down, and she was sure it had formed a message if the humid air didn't erase it.

She can think of one thing to do.

Grabbing the fuschia bucket by the side of the toilet, (Y/N) cuffed her pants and sleeves before filling the bucket with water.

Her sister was watching the television, before perking at the loud noises from upstairs. (S/N) muted the television, and turned her head.

"What's with the noises?!" She asked, a part of her thinking her little sister had already started trouble.

Thankfully, (Y/N) replied, "Nothing," Her calm voice floated downstairs, "Can you get the bleach and sponge?"

(S/N) raised an eyebrow at this request, but shrugged it off. She entered the kitchen and grabbed a yellow sponge before heading to the basement for the bleach.

She knocked abruptly on the toilet door, hands gripping the requested items. (Y/N) opened the door by a crack, only letting the older sister to see only her head.

"Here you go. Did something happened?"

(Y/N) retrieved the items before opening the door to the toilet a bit more. She only shrugged, "Felt like cleaning."

Before (S/N) can reply, the girl shut the door softly with a 'click'. The older sister could only blew a raspberry.

Back to (Y/N), she uncapped the bleach and poured the cleaning foam into the bucket, mixing it with water. The water soon had bubbles, and the girl dipped the sponge in the bucket.

Standing upright, (Y/N) wiped the blood away from the shower door, the sponge now stained with brown color.

"Does this count as vandalism?" (Y/N) thought to herself, before shaking at the idea, "No wait, vandalism is destroying other people's property... I think."

It was pretty hard to get the blood off, to say the least. (Y/N) splashed the rest of the soap-water into the shower door, and it was sparkling clean again.

"Thank god Mom didn't saw this," (Y/N) spoke again, "Can't believe (S/N) is freaky in the showers."

(Y/N) sat at the toilet seat, squeezing the excess water from the sponge. A mix of brown, murky substance mixed with the water.

(Y/N) looked at the sponge, now dyed brown, "I guess I have to buy new sponges now."

Unknown to her, a reflection showed in the mirror in front of her, looking from behind her, gold eyes lighting in anger, its red mouth dripping with saliva.

(Y/N) put the bucket back, once emptying the murky water in the toilet and flushing it away. She simply dumped the sponge in the trashcan under the toilet sink's counter.

She stretched, feeling her back popped from the sudden pressure.

* * *

"It's yours!"

"Uh." You intelligently answered, looking down at the present your dad bought.

With sleek, white paint and black seats, the Rover looked expensive. Its bumper lights was on, as the red lights also were on.

It would be impressive, if it weren't for the fact that it's a kid's car.

(B/N) could only laughed, while (S/N) was eyeing the kid's car akin to curiousity. Your father was smiling big, as the mother could only try containing her amusement.

"It's battery-operated, so we won't have to spend much," Your father spoke, "Go ahead and try it."

Deciding to try it out, you sat in the small seats. Your knees had to be drawn back, nearly reaching your chin. You looked at your dad unsurely.

"So... what do I do now?"

"Press the gear on your left," your dad instructed, and you brought your right leg so it dangles over the car's tiny window. Two pedals rest there, so after you brought your right leg back in, you pressed the left pedal.

Surprisingly, the kid's car hold your weight. It goes pretty fast, and suddenly, it was fun to drive it.

Your mom called after you, but you didn't knew how to turn back. You pressed the right pedal, and the tiny car jerked suddenly, making you realize it was a brake pedal.

Your head hit against the window frame. "Oof!"

Dizzyness entered you, before you shook it off. You sighed, before turning back to yout family. You only gave a thumbs-up to signal you were fine. You can visibly see your mother exhaled in relief.

Bringing your hand down to the rocky ground, you swerved the car using force.

You drived the car calmly, before braking in front of your family. You looked at your father in the eyes.

"I love it."

* * *

[SPINE BREAKER](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=YvszZE1TZaU)

It was Monday, so school started again.

You easily get ready, and went downstairs. Like usual, your mother kissed you on the cheeks and prepared your lunch. You grabbed it and said your gratitude.

You were about to walk, when you stop short.

The kid's car-- now yours-- was displayed openly at your opened garage. Making up your mind in 5 seconds, you made up your mind. Getting a whistle and hung it on your neck, you ride the car.

It was definitely more easier to drive the car, rather than walking. You usually felt sweaty after walking, but now, with the speed of the car, you breezed along the rocky pavement.

As you got nearer to school, more and more students noticed your odd way of transportation. Some laughed, some gave weird looks, while others ignored it.

"(Y-Y/N)!" You immediately hit the brake pedal and the car flinched at the sudden movement. You looked to the back, and see Bill with his usual friends, except you spot a new face.

You gave him a one-finger salute before getting out of the car. You slung your bag over your shoulders as the group nears you.

"Hey gang," You greeted them calmly.

Richie was the first one to reply, "Did you seriously just got to school with a baby car?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know whether to feel embarassed or amazed," Stan muttered, as he stare at the toy car with shifting expressions.

"Well, _I _like your style," Richie said with a grin, "What a way to make an impression!"

"Thanks." You turned your head to the new boy you don't recognized, before remembering what Bill said yesterday, "You must be Eddie, right?"

Eddie, the boy, nodded before rubbing his arm. He looked awkward. "Yeah, you're (Y/N), right?"

Before you can reply, Richie said something, similar to an expression of mocking Eddie, " 'Yeah, you're (Y/N), right?' You're such a virgin, Eds!"

Eddie scowled, his face immediately turning red, "Shut up, Richie!"

Stan joined in, "It's early in the morning and we've hit this low."

You studied Eddie's expression. He looks more reclused now after Richie's comment. Strangely, he was shorter than you.

You did the only thing you could. Bringing your hand up, you patted the boy's head softly.

His hair feels really oily, but you concluded it must be a hair gel. You put your hand back at the side, as Eddie looked shocked by your action. "It's okay to be shy. We just met, after all."

You quickly added, remembering Richie blabbing how the boy was a germaphobe, "Oh yeah, my hand's clean, don't worry."

Richie laughed at Eddie's expression, while Bill looked at you in disbelief. You spot Stan trying to hide his smile.

"You're w-weird, (Y/N)," Bill said, as if curious on what you really are.

"Uh, thanks?" You said, but it came out more as a question.

Turns out, riding a baby car really does make an impression.

Greta turned to you with an expression avid of unimpressness, "Heard you drive a baby car to school."

"It's not a baby car," You said, "It's my car."

She only rolled her eyes.

By the time lunch rolled, you didn't eat alone. Richie enthusiastically waved at you, and the rest of the gang turned back to see who he was waving to.

Like usual, you gave a laxed wave as a greeting, "Sup."

"C'mon, sit next to me," Richie coerced, and before Stan could scold him for the obvious trap, you already sat down next to him. Eddie had to sacrifced his space though.

"Don't touch my arm," The boy glared at Richie. The glasses boy responded by forcefully hitting Eddie in the ribs.

"I-I've heard f-f-from an u-upperclassmen," Bill said, catching everyone's attention. He looked troubled, "T-they said B-Bowers is coming f-for you."

Silence fell over the group. Stan shared Bill's palid expression, Eddie looked scared while Richie looked annoyed.

You only had one question in mind. "Who's Bowers?"

Before Bill could reply, Richie cut in, "An asshole and a jerk. If wasps were a person, Bowers would be the amalgamation of that bitch."

"Anyway," Stan cut in, "I think it's safer for you to hang in the girl's bathroom for a while. Bowers really sucks."

You stared at each of the member's faces, each expecting your answer. You shook your head, which shocked them.

"Are you nuts?!" Eddie shrieked. "That guy messed with my meds all the time!"

"I'm sure I can handle him." You replied, but the boys looked unsure.

"But--" Bill cut himself short, as his eyes widened. He looked focused on someone behind your back.

You looked back. Your eyes also widened.

"Well, well, well," A tall(?) boy said, smirking, "If it isn't the new whore of the school." He had a mullet, with the sleeves of his T-shirt cut off. There were three people behind him, each looking more mean than the other.

"L-l-leave her a-alone, Bowers," Bill said, glaring into the boy. The tall boy, Bowers, only offered him a lazy look.

"Why don't you s-s-shut up, Billy?"

"Who are you?" You asked, even though you knew the answer.

He smirked, "Bowers, sweetheart. Now, why don't we... go to a more deserted place?"

You stared at him. "No."

His smile dropped. "That isn't a question."

"So isn't mine." You replied back. The three boys behind his back began to move, but you remembered your plan.

"Hey, hold on," You rummaged through your bag, "Before we get to know and all, I have a present for you."

The boys stopped walking, as you opened a Coke bottle silently in your bag. Even your friends was confused.

You brought two round, white objects from your pocket and mixed it with the soft drink. Richie looked panicked by this.

You brought out the Coke bottle and pass it to Bowers, "Here ya go. I spent 5$ on this."

Bowers grabbed the bottle, unsure and looking around it. "What---"

Just like that, chaos ensured. The Coke react to the mint you put, and it exploded right in front of Bowers. It sprayed him right in the face and he yelled in pain.

The Coke spilled everywhere. Other kids were shocked at what happened, and some laughed.

Richie was having the time of his life, laughing in front of his bully's face. Bill was chuckling, as Eddie and Stan looked shocked and hiding their smiles.

Bowers glared into you, "You bi---!"

"Hey," You shrugged, calmly cutting him off, "Don't blame me for giving entertainment to the people."

You knew Bowers looked around, and he felt embarassed. His gang exit the cafeteria, without the leader giving you one last withering glare. You only respond with a laxed wave.

Richie was the first one to said something, "Oh my god!" He wheezed, wiping his laugh-tears away, "Did you see his fucking face?!"

Eddie finally cracked, and laughed with the boy.

"How did you do that?" Stan asked, as he stare at the left-over spill.

You smiled, "I just had some."

* * *

Turns out, pissing off Bowers really did made an impact for you in school more.

"Nice job, new kid!" One upperclassmen said with a laugh, "Heard from my brother that you blasted Bower's face with Coke. Keep on rocking, dude!"

He seems like a chill guy, as you waved leisurely at him.

"Did you seriously just Coke-blasted Bower's face at lunch?" Greta looked up to you after inspecting her nails, her eyes crinkled in disbelief.

"I guess." You could only answer vaguely. She shrugged, as you sat down behind her.

Guess Status is up by one point now.

As school ended, you walked out with your usual gang. Richie was still amazed what you did to the school bully.

"Is he really that bad?" You asked.

Stan could only shook his head. "He's the worst. I'm pretty sure he's harassed everyone in town by now."

You could only replied, "Yikes."

"HEY!"

You slightly jumped at the familiar voice, and turned back to see Bowers basically walking quickly to you. He surely looked pissed.

"Shit," Richie muttered, before grabbing your arm, "Let's go!"

You didn't flinch. Your eyes, however, were not focused on the bully. You simply lifted your arm to point someone behind Bowers.

The gang took notice of this, even Bowers. His gang looked back to see behind them.

"Bowers! Hockstetter! Criss! Huggins!" It was the dicipline teacher, Mr. Hank. He's unnaturally tall, with glasses hanging over him. 

You heard from Eddie that he once threw a chair at a kid for being noisy in the classroom. Big pity for that kid.

You knew with the way his mouth curved, he wasn't pleased at something.

"Come back here!" Mr. Hank sternly called, and the Bowers gang reluctantly did so. You could only watch from the bike parking-section.

Basically, Mr. Hank scold them for making a mess in the cafeteria, and forced them all to clean it up.

"But it wasn't us!" Cross denied, "It was the new kid!"

Mr. Hank sneered, "Not from multiple witnesses. Don't think you can get out of trouble by blindly blaming others, Criss."

You can basically _feel _Bowers anger from where he stands. His back was tense, and you can imagine the white boy going home to punch his wall.

Eventually, the Bower's gang followed the discipline teacher, but not without Bowers giving you a deathly glare. You replied with a laxed fingerwave.

"Damn," Eddie let out, after a couple beats of silence. He looked to you then to the school building, "We're so fucking lucky."

Richie seemed to agree, "Jesus Christ, God really loves us today."

You laughed slightly at his remark. "I guess so."

Stan stared at you, but panicked when you looked back. He averted his gaze, embarassed.

"What's up?" You casually asked, and the group's attention shift to Stan. He swallowed.

"Nothing, it's just that... After you joined our group, we strangely got really lucky."

Bill looked at Stan, as if realizing something, "Y-you-re right. A-after (Y/N) joined, Georgie r-really leaves m-me alone s-sometimes. And h-he's always want a-at-attention."

You chuckled, "That's kinda cute, Bill."

Bill smiled.

"And Greta doesn't really make fun of me," Eddie muttered, unconsciously patting his... front, "She's really obsessed on making fun of me..."

"Yeah, because you have two inch penis, Eds," Richie quipped, but he yelped after the germaphobe wack him over the head. "Hey!"

"Can you not, dumbass!?" Eddie deadpanned, tan cheeks slightly red. His eyes averted to you for a split second, before returning his attention to the trashmouth.

Stan could only sigh.

After a couple of silence, you said, "I bet I have a big dick energy."

The boys didn't reply, stunned by your cursed statement. Then, Eddie giggled, Richie laughed, and the contagious joy spread to Bill, Stan and lastly you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'll be following the first movie plot in the next chapter :3


	4. Rubber Red

_5 months later...._

_June 19th, 1989..._

It was raining heavily. Maybe that should've been a warning to you.

But, you only stared outside the window. The toxic water hit against the window harmlessly. The window felt cold against your hand.

Various art equipments lay scattered on your table, a blank paper rest among them. You looked down to it, and sighed, scratching your head. 

What to paint, what to paint? You picked up the pencil, but dropped it, canceling your first idea. You sighed sharply, now frustrated.

"(Y/N)!" Your mother called, "Dinner's ready!"

You sluggishly got up, leaving your equipments behind.

Dinner was delicious, as always. Your family occasionally chat as they're watching football on the television.

You were never much of a sports person, and usually left after they start getting their attention on the television. But this time, you decided to stay.

Who knows, maybe rage and scream as much as your family was doing.

You only laughed when they get frustrated, not paying much attention to the football event. After dinner was over, it was your sister's turn to wash the dishes.

Your mother and father were in the kitchen's dinner table, talking about things you don't understand. It was occasionally followed by loud laughs of your mother or amused chuckles from your father.

Your brother were already locked in his room, probably smooching his girlfriend through the telephone.

You stayed to flick the channels, shifting to one and another when the previous ones bored you.

However, you stopped when none of the channels interest you. You deflated in the couch, before opting to return to your room.

Getting up, you rode the stairs. However, you stopped dead in your track, hearing a certain tune.

You stopped your channel browsing on a kid's channel, and didn't bother to change it. You peered back to the television, the melody floating to the walls of your house.

_"Pretty little bird, pretty little bird," _the kids chorused. You didn't know why, but you were affixed to it. The eerie tone allure you, _"Pretty little girls, pretty little girls like you won't notice when it comes! Pretty little meat, pretty little meat, let me **devour you**!"_

The song sounded demonic now, and it seemed more static enters it.

You snapped out of your stupor, before rushing to the remote control and shutting the television off. Your senses pounded against your ears.

Your parents were still talking. The tap sink still flows heavy water. You thought of telling your parents of the disturbing song, but discarded it.

You rushed upstairs, now shaken.

_What the fuck was that?_

* * *

"What?"

You stared at Bill, who was pale and shaking.

"G-Georgie's missing," he repeated his sentence, but cracked at the end. The word sent dread all over you, and you shivered.

"Did y-you see him in your h-house o-or-?" Bill asked, desperation in his tone.

You looked down on the ground. "I'm sorry, Bill..."

He looked heartbroken by your response. You frowned. It was nearly the beginning of summer, and Georgie was missing.

You unhesitatingly brought Bill into a reassuring hug, unashamed to hug him tight.

He looked surprised, before returning your gesture. You heard a few sniffles, before you two broke apart. Bill's eyes looked red but he mustered the courage to smile.

"We'll find him," You confidently said, gripping the boy tight in the shoulder, "Georgie's a strong boy. He knows we'll find him in no time."

Bill nodded, wiping a few stray tears away. He gave you a smile, "T-thanks, (Y/N)."

You smiled back. "No problem, Big Bill."

* * *

Despite being in Derry for 5 months, people were still shocked to see you going to school with the baby car. You, on the other hand, were used to it now.

Even Bowers attempted(?) a normal conversation about it.

"Well, if it isn't the baby of the school," He said, watching you park your car on the bike section. The school didn't mind it. You didn't reply, so Bowers got near you.

You blew your whistle, which pierced through his ears. "Jesus, what the fuck!"

You pointed to a poorly-drawn line next to you, "Parking line, buddy. Don't steal it."

Bowers only looked at the pink crayon-drawn line in ridicule and confusion.

With that in mind, you enter school.

The memory of Georgie being missing were still fresh inside your mind, and you can't help but bit your nail. Where could a tiny, 8 year-old boy had gone to in the rain?

Opening your locker with Georgie's missing poster, you jumped in shock when Richie suddenly appear beside you.

"Hey," he said calmly, which was odd, since he was such a motormouth. You guessed Georgie was also in his mind.

"Hey," you replied, before patting Richie, "I guess Bill told you?"

He nodded, and you saw his fingers clamp tight to each other. He looked around, before his voice dropped to a whisper, "Listen, I gotta tell you something."

"Go ahead." 

"I--" He stopped his sentence short, before sighing sharply, "Look, you're new to the group and all and you're a girl but Georgie's really important to Bill. But... I really don't want Bill to get his hopes up."

You narrowed your eyes, "Tozier, what are you saying?"

Richie's adam apple bobbed, "Bill's my friend, but sometimes, things don't go the way you want to. So, I really hate it if he's let down. He'll start to get sad then I'll get sad then Eddie's gonna get pissed at me for being sad for Bill but then he'll get sad and---!"

You put your hand on Richie's mouth, effectively silencing him. He looked surprised though.

"I understand," Richie was shocked to hear your reply.

"Really?! Thank god, because I have been practicing this line for an hour and each time, I just sounds more and more like an asshole."

You nodded, not really caring to catch on. You looked Richie in the eyes, "Bill's my friend, too. I don't want to see him get crushed."

Richie nod to your words, "That, too."

"But," You sharply said, before closing your locker, "What if Georgie _is _missing? What if he's still out there? And so, we need to try to find him. It's the least we can do for Bill at his hardest time."

"Yeah, yeah," He whispered at first, before sounding more confident than the last. Richie puffed his shoulder and chest, "Right! You're right, (Y/N). We'll find Georgie. Maybe he's in that hobo's park or that creepy-ass Neibolt house."

You grinned, "That's the spirit."

Richie smirked, before leaning on the locker, "If we go to that park, I'll promise you a nice date."

You shook your head, smiling slightly, "Beep beep, Richie."

He blew a raspberry.

* * *

"Hey, slut," Greta casually sat in front of you, "How many dicks have you been sucking to pull that face?"

"Hey," You said with an edge, which surprised the rich girl, "I'm not a slut, I'm a whore. Get it right."

Greta sighed before face-palming, and faced the front. You leaned into your arm, feeling sleepy.

You didn't really had a good sleep last night. That demonic children song was still stuck inside your head and each time you remember it, you can't help but shiver a bit.

And Georgie...

You sighed sharply, ruffling your hair. A mixed of emotions, brewed like your dad's morning coffee, resonated in your chest. It hurts a bit.

"Hi," One awkward voice said, perking up your interest. You looked up, and see a literal baby-cherub standing in front of you. He wore a grey shirt and black pants, slinging a black back pack. "Could you move your chair a little bit for me?"

You nodded, and effortlessly scrape your chair until your chest rest on the table, and let the cherub boy through. He sat next to you in a thump, putting his bag down.

"You new?" You attempted a conversation. He shyly nodded.

"Just got here on Monday." He replied, before taking out his pencil cases and books.

"Well, good to know ya, new kid," You said, and brought your hand up for a high-five. The new boy looked surprised before returning it shyly.

"Y'know, I was a new kid," You said when it got too quiet, "Five months ago, bro. Time really flies fast."

The boy shrugged, "Time waits for no one."

"Oh, by the way, (Y/N)'s the name."

"I'm Ben." The new kid, Ben, replied with a smile. His rosy cheeks really made him look cute.

After the first class, you quickly made way for second class, which was Geography. Getting protractors and your scientific calculators, you were in so much rush you accidentally bumped into someone.

"Oof!" The air was knocked out of your chest, your equipments now scattered all over the grey school floor.

"Sorry!" An airy voice said, before you saw a blur of red hair. You gained your thinking back, only to see a red-headed girl picking up her and your contents.

"Ah, it's okay," You said, joining her to regain her items. However, you stumbled upon a pack of cigarettes and slightly stopped.

The red-headed girl quickly picked the cig pack before you can hesitate anymore. "Sorry again," You heard her mutter before leaving quickly.

You watched after her back, as people gave her side-stares. You slightly scratch your head.

Picking up your items, you hesitated to go to Geography. You looked back to the corner where the red-headed girl had gone to, hands gripping tight your notebooks.

Decision made, you swiftly stuffed the protractors and notebooks back into your locker, before grabbing your bag. You quickly hurried to where the girl had gone to.

Turning the corner, you saw no one in the hallways. You saw the bathroom door, before entering it.

The girl's bathroom smelled terrible, as always. You didn't bother much and suck it up.

You smelled a slight burnt scent of paper. You whiffed it, before confirming it to be a cigarette smoke. She's here.

"Hey," You called out into the silent bathroom, which felt awkward. You took advantage of this and sat on the sink. You swung your leg, feeling an odd sense of energy, "Nice to meet you. I'm (Y/N), the old new kid."

There was no answer. The door to each stalls only stared at you. Still, the lack of answer didn't bother you. You know she's here.

"... I guess it is a bit creepy for me to chase you after basically bumping into you," You admitted, "Sorry if I look awkward about that cig pack. I'm just not used to it, that's all."

"It's okay," The answer surprised you, but it was followed by a giggle, "I guess where you lived at was pretty strict about this."

She seemed to be referring to the cigarette pack, but you didn't saw the way she gestured to the whole school.

You smiled, but dropped it when you realized she can't see you, "I guess. My old school was a private school, so you can expect a lot of rules."

"Oooh," The girl said with interest, "I see, you're very fancy."

You remembered back to the kid's car and Bower's getting splashed in the face with Coke. A slight chuckle bubbled in your throat at the irony. "I guess."

Silence blanketed the toilet. You lay down unto the wall behind you, but stopped when you heard her say something.

"Beverly."

"What?" You asked, dumbfounded.

"The name's Beverly, old new kid." There was a hint of playfulness with that nickname.

"Ah," You hummed as an acknowledgment. "Nice to meetcha, Beverly."

"Back at you." Beverly smoothly said.

Silence wrapped around you again. You broke it with slight hesitance, "Shouldn't we be in class now?"

Beverly tutted behind the bathroom door, "I'm skipping."

Your heart slightly slowed at this. "Isn't that... bad?"

Beverly chuckled at your naive response, "You haven't seen half of this town if you think skipping class is bad."

"Well, I'll skip too."

Beverly's eyes widened. "Why?"

"Because I wanna keep you company," You replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "I don't think I want to hang around in the bathroom alone if I could help it."

Beverly was surprised by your response again, before a troubled expression enters her. "But.."

"Hmm?"

"You really don't know?"

"About what?"

Beverly's heart slightly dropped at this, before she sighed silently. You were so innocent, too innocent.

"Listen, kid, a lot of people in the school don't like me. I think it's better you stay away from me."

You hummed, "But that just gave me more reason to stay with you."

Beverly frowned, "I don't want your pity friendship."

"It's not pity friendship."

"Then what is it?"

You stared at the white door, "A friendly proposition."

Beverly didn't answer. You thought she had given up to talk to you, but then she laughed.

Her laughs rang through the echoey wall of the bathroom, and it made you feel a bit warm.

Beverly stood up from the toilet seat.

You perked up at the unlocking sound mechanism, before one of the stall doors opened.

Now that you can see her more clearly, she was beautiful. Pretty, with long, red hair tied into a low ponytail. A simple yellow dress complimented her skintone and freckles, and you can't help but blush.

"I'll accept your answer, (Y/N)." She said, lips splitting into a brilliant smile.

"Woah," You stared, "Beverly, you're a knockout."

* * *


	5. A Gentle Warning

Beverly blushed at your response.

"How are you so pretty?" You continued, mouth agape, "Like, I'm pretty sure that's illegal."

This time, Beverly laughed but her blush still remained. This was truly the first time someone said a compliment to her, and not in a creepy or snarky way.

"Thank you," She said, deciding to engrave this memory forever into her head.

You smiled. "No problem."

Then, it escalated to you two reading the graffities on the bathroom wall.

"Richie Tozier sucks Flamer cock?" You read one of the writings aloud, "Huh, didn't knew Richie was wilding."

Beverly laughed at your casual response. She looked back at the wall, and her mood dropped. "_Beaverly_", it clearly wrote. She already knew who wrote it.

The redheaded girl quickly moved on to other graffities, not wanting to damage her own feelings. She pointed to a writing and grabbed your attention.

"Ashley Martin is _pregnant_?" You read it aloud with an air of surprise, "Damn, hope she knows to use protection now."

Beverly laughed again. Her eyes crinkled with her freckles, and she stared at the usual oblivious you.

(H/L), (H/C) hair, (E/C) eyes and a normal expression, there was nothing about you that catches her attention at first. You looked normal as the next person.

But _knowing _you, that was different. You were so funny in your own ways, and so airheaded. Beverly can't help but appreciate the fact that you didn't even pay mind to the rumors about her. You were just so friendly and nice.

Beverly can't help but envy you. If she can only be this... _calm_.

"Beaverly?" You asked, which snapped her out. Turns out, you were reading from her slander-graffiti. Beverly slightly dropped at this.

This time, she didn't laugh. You took notice of this. "Aren't beavers from North America?"

"I think so." Beverly muttered. "Why?"

"Because if so," You looked at her, smiling, "That sounds like heaven. To be surrounded by _beaverlies_."

The redhead looked at you in disbelief, before she laughed again. Beverly knew it wasn't so funny, but she clench her stomach at the stupid joke.

You joined in with the joy session.

"You are so stupid, (Y/N)," Beverly said, full with affection. You grinned.

"That's my specialty, baby. Oh, also," You perked up, going to the sink and searching through your bag. Beverly was curious by this.

"What are you doing?"

"Aha!" You cheered, the shout reverberating through the walls. You turned back to her, while holding a pen marker.

Beverly quirked an eyebrow at this. You grinned and uncapped the marker. The smell immediately spread through but you didn't flinch or retch at it.

With pen in hand, your fingers swiftly wrote something on the wall, the ink quickly drying out against the open air. Beverly tried peeking at your graffiti, but you blocked her.

After finishing the mini essay, you capped the pen back. This time, Beverly can see the writing.

"_Greta Keene is a bi--_" Beverly didn't finish her sentence, as her lips split wide open and the most robust laugh she ever made echoed. She put her hand on her mouth, disbelief and amusement clear in her blue eyes.

"You did not!" She gasped with a smile. You nodded.

"I did." You said as you put your finger under the sentence: _Greta Keene is a bitch._

Beverly giggled more, "Gimme the pen."

You unhesitantly did so, and the redhead uncapped the pen. This time, she wrote something under your line.

Beverly exhaled, as she await your reaction at her graffiti.

You read it, and laughed along with her until you two were a gasping mess.

'_Greta Keene? More like, Greta bitch_,' the message clearly wrote, contrasting against your own writing.

You wheezed, before looking at Beverly for a split second as she does, before you two broke down again.

"We are both Renaissence painters now," You said, wiping away the tears at the corner of your eyes. Beverly giggled at your remark.

Then, the bell rang loudly. You and Beverly looked at each other at this, before the redhead shrugged.

"I guess time really pass when you're having fun," You softly said. You asked for your marker pen back and Beverly did so. The brief touch of your hand against hers made Beverly's breath hitch for a second.

"I guess we're friends now," You said with an air of casual joking. Beverly nodded, with an eager smile.

Suddenly, Beverly can hear loud chatter through the bathroom door that leads outside. You caught on to her panic, grabbed your bag and basically rammed the two of you in the bathroom stall you two basically vandalized.

The door leading to the girl's bathroom were harshly pushed open, as footsteps echoed through the walls.

"Are you in there, Beaverly?" A voice akin to Greta resound through the walls, her voice poisonous, "or do you got half of the guys in school with you in there, huh _slut_?"

Receiving no answer, Greta continued with a hiss, "I know you're in there, you little shit. No wonder you don't have any friends."

Beverly finally having enough, answered, "Which is it, Greta? Am I a slut or a little shit? Make up your mind."

Beverly was genuinely unnerved by Greta, only thought of the rich girl as annoying. She can already imagine the scowl etched on her face from the redhead's response.

"You're trash. We just wanted to remind you." Then, you can see Greta taking a step back from the stall door underneath the gap.

You looked up, seeing a levitating trash bag. No, there's a pair of hands holding it. Unhesitantly, you grabbed your bag and put it over both you and Beverly's head.

Whatever gross water and contents it had, it splashed against your bag, pooling under your feet and into outside the stall door. You let out a silent exhale.

Beverly could only look at you in disbelief.

"Now you smell better," Greta snarked. After they left, you opened the stall door.

You sighed, "So much for 'lasting guarantee'."

"You shouldn't have done that!" Beverly said, voice raised. "I don't want you to get in trouble for me!" 

You looked at her. She expected at least anger or disbelief, but you were _smiling. _"Getting my bag literally trashed was a dream in my bucket list, don't worry."

"That's not--!" Beverly tried, before you gave her a soft look. She sighed, "I just... Greta is my problem and I don't want to trouble you with her. She can be really handful."

"You worry too much," You said while flicking some chopped-up plastic stuck to your bag, "I'll give Greta a piece of mind. Now, you wanna go home or not?"

Beverly gave you a confused look, but she dropped it as you held out your hand while smiling. She could only sigh and smile back.

The redhead grabbed her bag and joined your hand with hers, "Let's go."

* * *

"Where were you?" Eddie asked, as you finally joined the gang.

"We were waiting for you to show up," Stan added, his eyebrows lifted.

You thought back to Beverly, "Emergency quizlets."

Eddie winced at your answer, "Damn, that's---"

He stopped short, before retching, "Ulgh! What's that smell?"

"My lunch." You quickly answered.

"Oh," Eddie muttered, now feeling guilty, "Sorry.."

You didn't answer, pretending to be mad. You three joined Bill and Richie, who were hanging out by the dumpster.

Richie wanted to gave you a greeting, but he stopped, seeing your backpack being wet.

"H-hey, (Y/---" Bill stopped short, staring at you in surprise, "U-uh, why do you..."

"Bill, stop, that's rude." Eddie cut in with a pointed stare, already knowing what the stuttering boy was about to say.

"R-right, right," Bill said, deciding to ignore his remark. Then, he and Richie opened their bags, as did Stan and Eddie. You could only look in confusion.

Your silent question was answered when the boys proceeded to completely get rid of their notebooks and folders, each paper giving the tall dumpster a vibration.

"Best. Feeling. Ever," Stan said with a relieved exhale. He shouldered his light bag into his shoulder.

"Yeah?" Richie gave him an unimpressed look, before smirking, "Try tickling your pickle for the first time."

Everyone groaned, before glancing at (Y/N). They knew Richie only filtered his dirty joke because of you.

"Hey, señorita!" Richie called to you, pointing to the dumpster, "Are you waiting for an invitation or something?"

You stared at the dumpster, before shrugging your bag. Richie cheered, as if what you're about to do was gonna win an award.

Your notebooks and folders must have been ruined from the water anyways, so what's the point of keeping them? You dumped them all away, as Richie clapped.

You grinned, "This is satisfying in a way."

"I bet you'll feel more satisfied when on my--"

"Shut the fuck up, Richie!" Eddie cut the boy's deliverance, scowling.

Stan rolled his eyes at Richie. Richie pouted.

But the trashmouth quickly perked up, "What do you guys wanna do tomorrow?"

He didn't gave any chance to answer, "I'll start my training."

"Training?" You asked.

"Street Fighter," Richie answered seriously. You nodded, respecting his answer while others gave him judgemental looks.

"Really? You wanna spend your summer in the arcade?" Eddie asked.

"Beats spending it inside your mom. Oh!" Richi whooped at his own burn. Others, shook their head.

The trashmouth raised his hand up, waiting for a high-five. Stan only put his hand down as a response.

You, however, patted Richie's shoulder. "They never really respect gamers."

Richie perked up at your remark, while others groaned.

"Don't encourage him, (Y/N)," Stan warned you. You grinned.

"I think it's a little too late, buddy."

"How about the quarry?" Stan suggested.

"Guys, we have t-the Barrens," Bill intervened.

Others didn't argue, only giving small responses. You gave a silent prayer to hope Georgie was still alive.

"Betty Ripsom's mom," Eddie pointed out to the group, and they stared at the surrounding police cars.

"Is she really expecting her to come out of the school?" Richie asked with an air of incredulous.

"I don't know. As if she's been hiding in Home Economy this whole time." Eddie said.

"Do you think they'll find her?" Stan asked solemnly.

"Sure. In a ditch, decomposed, covered in worms, smelling like Eddie's mom's underwear," Richie joked, but you didn't find it funny.

"She's not dead," you remind him strongly, "She's missing."

This immediately reminded Richie of the conversation you two had, before nodding. "Sorry, (Y/N). She's missing."

The Losers quickly moved along, with depressing aura clouding above their heads.

You could only gave Richie a silent pointed look. He swallowed.

"Y'know, the Barrens aren't even that bad. Who doesn't like splashing around in shitty water?"

Before anyone can reply, Richie yelped before falling over Stan. They both tumbled to the ground, groaning.

Stan's kippah was by the grass next to him, but before he could reach it, one of Bower's bullies, Patrick Hockstetter, grabbed it.

"Nice frisbee, Flamer," Hockstetter taunted the boy. Stan tried to grab it, but the bully threw it by a passing bus.

Hockstetter cackled, "Fucking losers!"

Eddie wasn't spared from the harassment. Huggins belched on his face, causing him to retch.

"Festive," You commented with a deadpanned look.

Bowers showed up to bump Bill in the shoulders. You knew, with the way his face was scrunched over, he was going to do something stupid.

"Y-y--"

"Hey Bowers!" You shout loudly, drowning Bill's own voice. Bill stared at you in shock.

Bowers slowly turned around to face you, irritated.

You continue, "Your mullet smells crusty, why don't you go wash it with your dad's cum?"

Everyone was at disbelief at the crude sentences you delivered, but it was cracked by Richie laughing. But he was silenced by Hockstetter punching his stomach.

Your face was surprisingly neutral, as if you had said something normal.

Bowers sneered, before getting to your face, "What does a whore like you knows?"

You shrugged casually, "A whore know this: you're gonna get a bad bruise, bro."

Finally, you used the secret weapon in your hand: a bottle containing acidic water.

It sprayed harmlessly against Bower's skin, and he looked at you in confusion. Then, he screamed.

Taking steps away in pain, his arm and face started appearing red blotches and the bully fell to the ground. Huggins and Hockstetter tried helping the boy, but you sprayed them with the water.

"What the fuck!" Hockstetter cursed, rubbing his arms wildly.

Actually, saying the water was acidic was a false statement. You just mixed water with itching powder.

"Be thankful it's not on your dick, dude," You casually said. Bowers glared at you, before rushing off to who-knows-where with his cursing gang.

You leisurely waved after them. Walking pass Bill who's mouth was agape, you helped Richie and Stan to stand up.

"Holy shit!" Richie wheezed, fixing his glasses, "You're a lifesaver!"

"Blergh," Eddie muttered, as he wiped various lotions on his tan skin. "Disgusting..."

"You two okay?" You asked, eyes flitting from the pair.

"Yeah," Stan muttered, wiping dirt away from his clothes.

"Richie?"

"Hmm?"

"What about you?"

"Oh. Ohhh, yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm fine." The trashmouth gave you a grin. Then, the boy turned to Bill, "Earth to Bill! I know she's a turn-on but stop staring!"

Finally, Bill snapped out of his stupor. He neared you and the rest. "T-that was--"

"Brave? Amazing? Genius?" You suggested.

"Stupid," Bill deadpanned, "T-that was s-stupid."

"Your welcome," You patted the boy in the shoulder.

"What the fuck kind of water did you spray 'em?" Richie asked as the group reunited.

You thought for a moment. "Acidic water."

"Woah!" Eddie said in surprise and horror, and even Richie knew that meant danger, "No wonder their skin were red.. That's dangerous, (Y/N)!"

You shrugged, "What can I say? I'm petty."

"By spraying Bowers with acidic water?" The germaphobe deadpanned.

You grinned, "What? Everyone has at least spray acid water at their bullies, right? Right?"

The boy's faces were a mix of amazement and confusion.

* * *

"Honey, what happened to your bag?!" Your mother shrieked with worry.

You, being too nice and stubborn, slung your bag over your shoulder and went home like it. Your back was really wet by the time you arrived.

"And why do you smell bad?" (B/N) added, taking a whiff of you and winced.

Your brain ran through multiple excuses. You settled on a flimsy one, "I got pushed and landed on a puddle."

"Yeah, but that doesn't explain why you smell bad," Your mother argued.

"It was a big puddle."

Your mother sighed, seeing no way to convince you to tell her the truth. "Why don't you go take a shower? I'll prepare an extra bag."

You nodded, while silently cheering. "Okay."

"And watch where you're going next time!" Your mother called out as you rode the stairs to the bathroom.


	6. Too Old to be Young

_ You wiped away the tears in the corner of your eyes._

_ It was dark. Too dark for your 8 year-old eyes._

_ Your frail fingers could only hold tight to your pillow, trying to find any semblance of comfort in the dark. Finally, you had enough and cried loud in your room._

_ Your wails resonated in the room, paired with your hysterical hiccups._

_ "She's really loud," your thirteen year-old brother complained, with the rest of your family. The rest of your family were still awake. You were the only one being sent to bed early._

_ "I'll get her," Your mother tiredly replied, before yawning. Your sister, who was seventeen, only silently glanced at your parents._

_ They looked tired. There were dark bags under their eyes, and (S/N) sometimes spot the lights in their bedroom still opened when it was 1 AM._

_ "Actually," she cut in, "Let me get her."_

_ "Oh, honey, I appreciate it but--"_

_ "I can do it, don't worry," (S/N) cut her mother off, confident. Then, (B/N) quipped in._

_ "Then, I wanna join, too!"_

_ Your parents unsurely looked at each other. Your sister was reliable but your brother? He's always been trouble. Unfortunately, (S/N) allowed him to join her._

_ (S/N) opened the door to your room. She was greeted with the usual stars-painted and moon-hanged wallpaper, and it was dark. The crying was now lessening in volume._

_ "(N/N)?" (S/N) softly called out to you, with (B/N) agitatedly jumping to get in the room. She opened the door wider before opening the lights._

_ You were still crying, albeit more silent. With red eyes, the sight of you crying would make anyone melt and soothe after you._

_ You looked up to your sister, wiping away the tears in your eyes. (S/N) got near you before sitting down. (B/N) looked at you in confusion._

_ "What's wrong?" (S/N) gently asked with a frown. "Did something happen?"_

_ You were a silent for a moment. Then, you spoke, tone a few octaves higher, "There's a monster."_

_ "Monster?" Your brother asked, fascinated. (S/N) gave him a stern glare, causing him to back down._

_ "There's no monsters, (N/N). It's only in your dreams."_

_ "No, no, there's a monster," You childishly denied, and (S/N) sensed an oncoming tantrum, "I saw it."_

_ "When did you saw it?"_

_ You paused. "When Mom closed the lights."_

_ Immediately, she understood. You were afraid of the dark. It was normal, everyone have fears._

_ (S/N) ushered (B/N), albeit with a slight force. He was always taunting you as a baby, putting his hand near you were teething as a baby and wanted to bite his fingers clean off. Now, he was still annoying._

_ "Come on," (S/N) coerced you to join her in the bed. Your heavy head hit lay against her chest, and your bed was too small for a seventeen year-old like her but she didn't really care._

_ She smoothly ran her fingers through your scalp, "You saw monsters when Mom closed the lights?"_

_ You nodded._

_ "Well, what if it isn't a monster?" She asked. The question marked you strange, causing your underdeveloped brain to be confused._

_ "Then, what is it?" You asked after finding no answer as you looked up to her._

_ (S/N) looked down to you, and smiled, "What if, just like your friend, Cheryl, that "monster" you're afraid of is just your imagination?"_

_ "Ima-jeenation?" You asked and she nodded. She looked off the distance, racking her brain for an explanation._

_ "It's... a thing where your brain can do whatever they want. Be a celebrity, be famous--"_

_ "Even eat ten spaghettis in one-go?" You asked, eager. (S/N) laughed before nodding. It amazes her how kids even think._

_ "Yep. But remember, our imagination can do something to us, the real us. And whatever monster you saw, you can do whatever you want with it."_

_ Your big, (E/C) eyes looked up to your sister again, before humming. "I'm always scared of that monster."_

_ (S/N) looked down to you, "And what are you gonna do?"_

_ Finally, you puffed your cheeks and chest, "I'm gonna kick them just like what She-Ra do to the villains!" You proudly said with a smile._

_ (S/N) laughed before nodding, supporting your ideal, "That's great, (N/N)."_

_ She got up, legs cramped from the uncomfortable position she was in. (S/N) kissed your forehead and smiled, "Don't be afraid anymore, (N/N). Goodnight."_

_ You didn't understand what she meant but you nodded. You closed your eyes, as (S/N) closed the lights and shut the door._

* * *

_ It was 4 in the morning. You woke up in the dark, and immediately stopped breathing._

_ You shut your eyes again, desperately wishing and praying for your safety. From what, you don't even know._

_ However, remembering what you had promised to your sister, you sat up._

_ Heart pounding, your eyes searched for any face in the dark, but found none. You pursed your lips and set your face into determination._

_ "You're not scary to me." You said aloud, before diving into the covers of your bed._

* * *

"Aaaah!" Greta yelped, as you spot a little dark-brown cockroach. It harmlessly sprang around the grey floors, confused.

You stared at it, albeit with slight curiosity. The teacher was trying to calm down the class, and you casually stood up.

Nearing the bug, more people shrieked when you simply picked the cockroach by it's antenna. Its legs wiggled, searching for the hard ground.

After getting rid of the cockroach by letting it join God's other creatures, you entered the classroom with a smile.

"What the hell are you looking happy about?" Greta asked, weirded out.

Your smile was still intact, as you remembered your sister's words. "Just remembering a funny memory."

* * *


	7. Breaking Point

Needless to say, any vacation day is amazing. And that includes summer.

But that doesn't mean you're just gonna stay around and be lazy. You need an outlet: an activity to start getting rid of the excess amount of energy you sometimes got.

And so, you traveled Derry with your baby car. Kids, even adults stared at you in confusion and ridicule but you don't care. 

The town is really pretty. There was a souvenir store (don't know why the owner thinks someone's gonna visit a terrible town like Derry), the butcher shop, the arcade which you were sure Richie was gonna have a hell of a time, and many more you didn't care to spare a glance at.

You brake your car upon stumbling many various of missing posters. Kids, little kids, with their faces pulled up into big smiles and little pigtails and crooked teeth, were missing.

A pit in your stomach started brewing. Georgie has to be alive. If.. IF he isn't, you'll never forgive yourself. And you know Bill won't, either.

'Please. Just please, be safe.' You silently prayed, rubbing your knuckles.

"Excuse me!" You were snapped out of your stupor, before looking at the source of voice.

It was a tall black boy, with a package in his hand. He looked... tired?

Suddenly, you realized you were blocking his way and uttered a small apology, and reversed your tiny car using your hands.

He gave a quick nod to your remark before quickly walking up to an alley. Why does he looked so breathless?

You shrugged it off and let him be. Just as you were starting your baby car back, you heard a revving engine of a car. When you listened closely, a red car suddenly zoomed ahead of you.

"Stay the fuck out of my town!" You know that voice. It was Bowers. He zoomed off to whoever knows where, and suddenly you were aware of the boy you just met.

Wow, what a surprise that the school bully is also racist.

You quickly got out of your car and dashed toward the alley, seeing the boy you met on the ground.

"Hey!" You caught his attention and he looked surprised, as if you just stumbled upon something he didn't want you to see.

"S-stay back!" The boy shouted, which stopped your running. "T-there's a-- There's a--!"

He pointed to a door, locked with a chain, opposite to the building he was laying on. You raised an eyebrow.

"You saw something in there?" You asked, but it sounded ridiculous. How can he saw something if the door's locked? By this time, you were sure Bowers must've messed with him.

You offered your hand to the boy, who was still laying on the ground. He took it with almost a fraction of hesitation. He stood up, towering above you.

You pat him in the shoulder, noting how he was muscly under the white shirt he wore, "Hey, it's okay. I'm pretty sure Bowers messed with you too much."

The boy swallowed, "Right, right. I-I'm sorry, but I gotta go."

You nodded in understanding, but remembered something. "Hey, what's your name?"

The boy looked back to you, seemingly surprised by your question. He quickly caught on, "Mike. I'm Mike."

"I'm (Y/N)," You offered a smile, "Stay tough, Mike. There's real humpdingers in this town."

He looked confused by your later sentence, but you were already down the alley, giving a leisure wave to him.

* * *

"Take everything but the delicious deals, guys. It's my mom's," Eddie said, as he watch Richie, (Y/N) and Bill rummaging through his cupboard.

(Y/N) turned back to him, stunned by his warning. In her arms, were the delicious deals he had told to stay away from. Eddie only lift his eyebrow, as if challenging the girl to disobey his rule, before she quietly put it back.

"Hey Bill?" (Y/N) asked while searching for other snacks, "You said we were going to the Barrens, now the Sewers? What if we get caught?"

Bill dismissed her concern, "We won't, (Y/N). It's open to the p-public, right? We're t-the public, aren't we?"

Richie opened one of the cabinets, to discover many prescription bottles, each tinted orange and with different labels, "Hey, Eddie, these your birth-control pills?" The trashmouth snark.

"Yeah, and I'm saving them for your sister. This is private stuff!" Eddie scolded before yanking the bottle from Richie's hand and putting it back on the cupboard.

"Aren't Richie's sister, like, four?" (Y/N) quipped.

The boys fell silent, before Richie gagged.

"You're making me imagine bad things, dude," Richie said, giving the girl a grossed-out look.

"You're the one who brought it up."

"How is that me?! It was Eddie!"

"Hey, shut up!"

Bill had to break off the childish arguments, and so, the group exit the kitchen to start their expedition to look for Georgie and perhaps Betty Ripsom.

"Eddie-Bear? Where are you all going to?" Just as they were about to exit, Eddie's mother called out to the group.

Bill decided to take initiative, "Um, j-j-just my backyard, Mrs. K. I got a new.."

The stuttering boy stopped short, brain running through multiple excuses. (Y/N) helped him out.

"Bill's just trying to show his carpeting work," she blurted out. The boys gave her a confused and judging looks. The girl pat the stuttering boy in the shoulder, "He's just really nervous about this whole stuff. Sensitivity and all."

For what seemed like eternity (which was actually two seconds) of Mrs. K giving (Y/N) a look-over, she finally replied, "Okay. Oh, and sweetie, don't go rolling around the grass, especially if it's been freshly cut. You know how bad your allergies can get."

Seeming to think they were off the hook, Eddie pushed his friends out, albeit giving a gentle push to (Y/N), but he was stopped again.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" His mother asked, while cleaning her nails. Eddie seemed to dread what was about to happened. He gave a quick glance to his friends, before going to his mother.

Richie seemed to enjoy the fact that he get to see Eddie kissed his mother on the cheek. (Y/N) reminded him to be normal.

Once done, Eddie was finally let go. But Richie saw a moment of opportunity.

"Do you want a kiss from me too, Mrs. K?" The trashmouth asked with a dopey grin, but he was forcefully pushed out by Eddie, who was glaring at him, cheeks red.

Bill suppressed his amusement, while (Y/N) silently laughed.

The girl looked at Eddie, who was blushing and glaring openly at the known trashmouth's head. She lovingly patted the germaphobe's head.

"You look cute when you're shy," She said to him, smiling ear-to-ear. Eddie could only blush more, trying to find a response. He wasn't even sure if (Y/N) was messing with him or if she was serious.

* * *

After stopping by Stan's house, the Loser's Gang arrived at the Sewers with their bikes.

"That's poison ivy," Stan pointed to a random plant, "And _that's_ poison ivy. And that's poison ivy." The Jewish boy continued, basically pointing to the surrounding floras.

"W-where? Where's the poison ivy?" Eddie asked, agitated and afraid, eyes narrowing to search for the plants Stan had pointed to.

(Y/N) turned back to the duo, "Stan, stop messing with him."

Eddie looked back to Stan, disbelief displayed when catching the Jewish boy smiling in amusement.

"Not funny, Stan! You know I have bad allergies!"

Stan and Eddie stood at the entrance of the sewers, too grossed out to join. (Y/N) however, simply cuffed her pants and grabbed something out of her bag.

"Seriously?!" Richie asked, incredulous as he stared at the girl holding two gloves and dive boots, "We're not taking a swim in here, dumbass!"

"You really think I'm gonna come unprepared?" (Y/N) deadpanned with a calm face, and she slipped into her equipments. Eddie gave her an approved look.

Richie shook his head. (Y/N) jumped into the sewer, boots hitting against the mucky substances. She ignored it and brought herself deeper into the smelly tunnel.

So far, the only thing you saw were plastics and stray pieces of broken branches.

"Who even poops out plastic?" The question blurted out of your mouth and Richie laughed.

"Probably Ed's mom."

"Stop bringing my mom into your jokes!" Eddie said, exasperated.

Bill, Richie and (Y/N) began to head deeper into the tunnel. The trashmouth turned back to Stan and Eddie, whose expressions were of concern and disgust.

"Aren't you guys coming in? Don't be pussies!" Richie taunted. Eddie shook his head to the water in the tunnel.

"Nuh-uh. That's greywater."

"What the hell's greywater?" Richie asked, exasperated.

"It's basically--!" Eddie had to take a breathe to let out his frustration, and motioned his hand while speaking, "Piss and shit! So I'm just telling you!"

(Y/N) decided to speak, "I guess that's your mom, Eddie."

"Oh!" Richie cheered and grinned at the girl's taunt, bringing his hand up for a high-five. The airhead easily rejoiced the moment.

"I swear to god," Eddie muttered but his voice resounded in the tunnels. He pointed to the 'greywater', "You guys are literally standing in million gallons of Derry pee! So--"

Eddie stopped himself short when he saw Richie picked up a stray stick, "Are you serious?! What are you--"

"_Doesn't smell like caca to me, senõr_!" Richie poorly imitated a voice, grinning.

(Y/N) made a face. "That's disgusting, Richie."

"Blergh! And I can smell it from here!" Eddie complained.

"Probably just your breath wafting back to your face," The trashmouth teased the germaphobe. (Y/N) laughed at this, echoing into the tunnel.

"Okay, Richie," she stood in front of the boy, "Let the dude have a rest."

"I'll give him a rest when I get chicks around me."

(Y/N) shook her head, but then she perked up and looked at the boy in the eyes, "Wait, if you get chicks, then that means I'm one of your chicks. So does that means you're closer to your goal?"

"No, that means you need to shut up," Stan spoke up after being silent for too long.

"Do you even think when you're talking, (Y/N)?" Eddie asked, a slight blush to his tan skin. The girl shrugged as a response.

Before the conversation continue, Bill called out loudly to his gang, "Guys!"

Everyone's attention was immediately on him. Bill brought his hand tall, holding a wet shoe.

"Shit!" Stan cursed, eyes widening in horror, "Don't tell me that's...!"

"No, Georgie wore galoshes," Bill confirmed.

"Whose sneaker is it?" Eddie inquired, voice slightly shaking. (Y/N) quickly neared Bill and the boy passed the sneaker to her carefully. She noted his hand was slightly shaking.

She checked the shoe, and spotted a name written in black Sharpie. She turned to the entrance tunnel, "It's Ripsom's."

The three boys seemed nerved by this. "Oh, shit!" Eddie repeated what Stan said, but he adverted his gaze to the ground, "God, fuck! I don't like this!"

"How do you think Betty feels? Running around these tunnels with one shoe!" Richie tried to joke, hopping on one leg.

You inspect the shoe more. You imagined it to be pristine white instead of piss-yellow, but you can't help but imagine the worst for Ripsom. You mentally cursed.

"What if she's still down here?" Stan asked, breaking the silence. His eyes seemed to gaze deep into the tunnel.

No one answered. Bill was the first to take initiative, lighting his flashlight and venturing deeper into the tunnel.

"Bill?" (Y/N) called, but he didn't turn back. "Bill?"

"I-if I was Betty Ripsom, I w-want us to find me. Georgie too." Bill looked at (Y/N) in the eye, hoping she would understand.

"Bill.." (Y/N) sighed, and everyone was surprised at how tired she sound. She looked at each of the three boys, before turning back to Bill.

(Y/N) calmly breathed out, "Let's just take a step back, Bill. We don't know if Georgie's in the sewers or not."

"B-but if Betty Ripsom's shoe is in h-here, at least we have to check it out," The stuttering boy pleaded.

(Y/N) bit her bottom lip. Eddie was the first to break the suffocating silence.

"What if I don't want to find them?" He said, which cause disbelief in the group, "I mean, no offense, Bill, but I don't want to end like... I don't want go missing, either."

Stan was the first to agree, "He has a point. It's summer! We're supposed to be having fun. This isn't fun, this is scary and disgusting!"

(Y/N) gave a pity look to Bill, who only looked broken by his friend's statements.

"Come on, you two," (Y/N) ushered the two boys. When the others weren't looking, she whispered to Bill, "We'll go next time, Bill. I promise."

The stuttering boy gave a look of disbelief, before smiling. "Thanks," He whispered back.

(Y/N) patted him in back softly.

Suddenly, a loud _splash! _caught the attention of the Loser's. The loud splash turned to be from an overweight boy, and he must have fallen down from the narrow slope toward the Barren. His shirt was ruined, showing his stomach freely. But what was most concerning, there seem to be a cut bleeding profusely from his stomach.

"Holy shit, what happened to you?!" Richie asked in disbelief. (Y/N), however, recognized the injured boy.

"Ben?"


	8. Repressed

_ "Did you heard?"_

_ "Is it true? Oh my god, no way..."_

_ "That's scary..."_

_ With darken eyes, (Y/N) only ignored the whispers surrounding her. Her sweaty fingers made contact with the school's blue locker._

_ She felt tired. Her heart beats against her ribcage, unsteadily, the blood flowing through her system mixed with pent-up nerves._

_ Her finger slightly twitched as she made contact with the round object in her locker. Seeing the star-printed compact mirror, her anxiety slowed._

_ She hastily pocketed the small object, and relaxed her tense shoulders._

_ Making way for the classroom, many people her age and beyond avoided her. They only gave terrified glances and nervous side-eyes to their friends._

_ Unconsciously, (Y/N) put her hand her pocket and forcefully calmed herself down by drawing light circles on her compact mirror._

* * *

The Faux Family was a typical standard nuclear family. The mother, with big smiles and pulled-back bun, and the father, with formal pose and bored gaze.

They have three children; the oldest being (S/N) Faux, the second (B/N) Faux and the last and most spoiled in the house, (Y/N) Faux.

But underneath these happy faces and polite gestures, the Faux family wasn't normal. Under any circumstances, they were under danger.

You were young. 12, so you wouldn't understand. Wouldn't understand the fact that your father was largely indebt and didn't have enough money to support his family. Wouldn't understand the fact that your father turned to the dark, illegal businesses.

You wouldn't understand why your own father would turn to the mobs, working for the mafia. Wouldn't understand why your father forbid you to enter his weapon basement, filled with realistic-looking toy-guns and more realistic-looking bullets.

You just wouldn't. Your mother tried to stop your father at first, but it was too late. His 'little' deeds were exposed but you didn't know.

You can't possibly know. You were young and (F/N) didn't want your childhood to be scarred with the memories of the mafias behind your family's back.

But they were already were. He just didn't knew.

One day, when your father suddenly turn up to home with his face bruised and bloodied, your mother shrieked. Your sister only covered your eyes as you asked her what's happening.

_"Just close your eyes, (N/N)," _(S/N) soothingly told you, ignoring your questions, _"Don't look."_

Sometimes, you wondered if it was your fault. Why your mother cried in the dead of the night, weeping about her problems. Why your brother distanced himself from you. Why your sister became more and more reclused.

Sometimes, you'll cry. But it's not like they'll reassure you. You'll always muffled your own crying fits in your bedroom.

* * *

_"Hey," an airy voice greeted you. You looked up. It was the new kid. She have a set of calming, brown eyes and laxed posture. "Can I sit next to you?"_

_ You looked at the empty seat next to you before nodding, not looking at her._

_ Were you that spaced out to miss her introduction to the class? But it's not like you cared anyway. She'll just distanced herself from you in a few days._

_ The chair next to you was noisily grinding against the floor and you heaved an exasperated sigh. After she settled down in her seat, the girl stared at you._

_ To say the least, you were disturbed. "What?" You slightly snapped. She didn't avert her gaze or even flinch._

_ "Why do you look sad?" She asked, with an air of casualty. You stared at her, incredulous._

_ Your tongue threatened to spill your problems, but you caught yourself last minute. The question was so foreign; you haven't heard of it in a long time._

_ "It's none of your business," You defensively said, turning the other way. But then, the new kid tapped your shoulder._

_ "What?" You asked, albeit more calm._

_ "You can tell me your problems," she coerced you nonchalantly, "I won't tell."_

_ You huffed, before turning the other way again. She tapped you in the shoulder again. This action irritated you._

_ "What?" You snapped, more exasperated._

_ "It's not good to be sad," she spoke again with no anger or sadness, just... neutralness, " 'Cause sad backward is 'das'_ _and 'das__' not good."_

_ You stared at her, shocked. But the terrible joke made you crack a smile, before you chuckled. You stopped yourself before sighing._

_ Are you really gonna tell your problems to a stranger?_

_ So, you did. You told her about your problems, why your siblings seemed to care less about you, why your parents looked tired. The more you spoke, the more the burdens burned on your shoulder began to soothe away._

_ "Dang," The new kid spoke, "Sounds tough."_

_ You scoffed at her lack of emotion, "Thanks."_

_ She shrugged, "Maybe your parents are going through something. You should ask them."_

_ A troubled expression were displayed on your face, "I already did. They won't tell me.."_

_ The new girl shrugged again, "Then why don't you just let them be? Maybe they'll be over it in no time. You can't force a speedy recovery, after all."_

_ You sighed. In a way, she was right. But for some reason, the thought plagued you. You were just afraid, you guessed._

_ But of what, though?_

_ "By the way, I'm Jane," the girl said with a slight smile. "Just moved in, the usual deal."_

_ You hesitantly returned her smile, "I'm... (Y/N)."_

_ "Well, nice to meetcha, (Y/N)," Jane said with a casual finger-gun, "Hope you like jazz because I do."_

_ You laughed at her joke, before stopping yourself again. You smiled unconsciously. Since when did you have a good laugh?_

* * *

Jane. You missed her.

Your breath fanned against the air. The frosty winter has began in America, and thus marked your cold, dead heart to be more dead.

Jane was your best friend. She was an airhead, and she was funny. She made the rainiest day have a peek of sun. She made the most gloomy day at least a bit cheery.

She was the jam to your peanut butter. You hate peanut butter.

You missed her. The only memory you have of her when you moved away from Indiana was a badminton racket, with her name written on the edges.

_"You won't forget me, right?" Jane asked. It was the day where you will move away. Your parents allowed you to say any final words to your friends._

_ The first thing you replied with when they asked you that was Jane's home address._

_ You smiled through the pain. Despite the last terrible week you had in school, it was still something you cherished. Jane just made it all brighter. "I won't. How can I?"_

_ She smiled. But then she broke, letting a single tear ran down her left eye. It was that moment you instantly latched yourself to her, hugging tight, not wanting to let go._

_ She cried and cried. You also were, but more silent. It was heartbreaking to see Jane, an airhead who's always calm and replies to any serious questions with ditzy answers, breaking down like this._

_ After two minutes (which felt like hours), you let go of each other. Jane wiped away her tears and snots, just as you did._

_ She perked up, as if remembering something. "Wait here!" She shouted to you as she entered her house. You can hear thundering footsteps before it all went quiet._

_ You jumped slightly when Jane came back, panting. But in her hand, she carried a... racket._

_ A badminton racket, to be specific. It was vibrant pink, with black colors added to it. You looked slightly surprised, wondering what the airhead was thinking._

_ "So, I got this cool racket from my mom," Jane explained, "But I don't really play with it. And it's been sitting ducks in the corner of my room."_

_ "Wait," you slowly said, "Are you... giving me your badminton racket, as a parting gift?"_

_ She nodded. You looked at her in disbelief, before laughing. She looked offended by this._

_ "Okay, rude to laugh at someone's gift to you."_

_ You caught your breath, holding your laugh to hold your sentences, "I'm sorry-! But i-it's so funny to me!"_

_ You laughed before stopping. Jane rolled her eyes._

_ "Laugh it up all you want, but I bet this guy will be a star in the badminton league," the airhead boasted. You slightly chuckled._

_ She passed the racket to you, and you felt the handle. It felt slippery and rubbery, and the metal part felt cold. You serenely smiled._

_ "Yeah, this guy will be a groundbreaker."_

_ Jane smiled, appreciating your words._

Gripping tight the living memory, you swung the racket in your hand to test it.

Felt normal. You smiled, imagining you and Jane playing badminton in your backyard. And the times she switched the chemicals -at the table where people spread rumors about you-- in Science class with Coke. And the time she doodled phallic-looking flowers at the corner of the whiteboard.

She made you happy. In just a short time, you already forgotten your own problems.

Unnoticed to you, tears began to slip out from your eyes. The trails of water felt cold against your cheeks.


	9. Doctor's Note

"Ben, buddy, when I said to have fun during summer, I don't meant this," You said, helping the boy get up. "Who gave you that scar?"

"Bowers," the chubby boy whimpered, before hissing slightly as Stan and you helped him up.

Richie scoffed, "Why am I not surprised?"

"C'mon, you can ride with me," You offered to Ben, who looked shy and holding his stomach.

You steadied your bike, and ushered the injured boy to get behind you. He hesitantly do so, but his cheeks seem to get red.

"Is this okay?" Ben asked, "Like, are you comfortable with this?"

You gave him a questioning look, "What's the big deal? Come on, hold my waist."

Ben did so, albeit a bit shyly. As you paddled your bike, his grip seemed to get tighter. You and the rest followed Bill's direction to the pharmacy.

The pharmacy was ran by Greta's father, Mr. Keene. It wouldn't be such a big deal if he wasn't a creep.

"Who w-wants to g-g-go get supplies?" Bill asked after the gang parked their bike.

"I'll stay with Ben," You volunteered. Bill nodded.

"I'll stay with (Y/N), then," Richie shrugged. The others didn't protest. And so, Eddie, Stan and Bill were the ones to buy the supplies.

You helped Ben lay on a wall with graffitis, on an alley near the pharmacy. He groaned and hissed a bit before relaxing.

You pat him in the shoulder reassuringly, "Don't pass out on me now, Ben."

"I won't." Ben promised, offering a smile.

"Well, glad I got to meet you before you died," Richie dismissively said and you hit him in the shoulder for this.

You sat next to Ben, and checked him every now and then. The cut was still bleeding, but some of it seem to be drying.

"Bowers must be illiterate if he can't even finish his own name," You joked. Ben smiled, appreciating you trying to lighten him up.

Richie however, blew a raspberry, "Your jokes kinda suck, (Y/N)."

"Thanks, jerk."

Richie threw his hands up in mock defeat, grinning, "You love me!"

"Unfortunately, yeah." You replied back.

"What do you mean 'Unfortunately'?!"

Suddenly, before you can answer, a few beats of steps can be heard before Eddie, Stan and Bill showed up, panting. They all had an armful of supplies.

"You can afford all of that?" Richie asked, mouth gaping.

"No," Stan came clean, after regaining his posture, "We didn't have enough money."

Richie and you shared a confused look.

"Whatever. Give me the stuff," You shrugged it off. Eddie seemed offended by your request.

"I can do this just fine, (Y/N)," he said, holding tight the supplies more. You shook your head.

"Yeah, and my parents definitely didn't peer-pressure me into becoming a doctor. Just give 'em, guys."

You knelt down next to Ben, who looked embarrassed. The supplies were put next to you. However, an idea entered you.

You searched for something in your pocket, and brought out a red-wrapped lollipop. You passed it to Ben, "Suck on it, candy lessens the pain."

You smiled before grabbing a small box, missing the way Ben blushed. He unwrapped the lollipop and silently suck on it as you began working.

Halfway through, you made a face upon seeing a pain-suppressor pill. You raised an eyebrow at Eddie.

"What?" He defensively asked, "He needs it."

You shook your head and threw the box aside. Eddie let out an offended 'hey!'.

"Don't you gotta suck the wound first?" Richie commented and you gave him a incredulous look.

"What makes you even think I need to suck the wound, with dirty blood on it?" 

"I saw it on TV," The trashmouth justified his reason. Eddie rolled his eyes.

"Oh my god, what kind of fucking show do you watch?"

"Uh, MacGyver!" Richie said with an offended tone, "That guys knows stuff you don't know, Eds!"

"Like what, asshole?!"

And so, began the two boys to bicker. Stan rolled his eyes while you sighed. You whispered to Ben, "Sorry about them."

The boy awkwardly smiled, "It's okay."

"Oh my god, what happened to you?" A new voice broke the bickering between Eddie and Richie. You looked up from Ben's wound, and sharply exhaled. "That looked like it hurt."

With her long, beautiful red hair, blue eyes, red tank-top and blue jean shorts, you recognized her already.

"Hey, Beverly," You smiled at her, before wincing over the fact that your hands cramped for a bit. You finally sat down in front of Ben. "Wish the day had been better."

"Good to see you too, graffiti girl." The redhead joked. You smiled, even though not facing her.

"No, I'm good," Ben replied, albeit a bit late, "I just... fell.."

You shook your head at the boy's flimsy excuse.

"Yeah, straight into Bowers," Richie snark. Your eyes slightly widened.

"Shut up, Richie," you calmly said, while wiping Ben's forehead --which was oozing with blood-- with cotton. Richie made a face.

"What?" The trashmouth asked in defense. "It's the truth!"

You sighed, exasperated.

"You sure they got the right stuff to fix you up?" Beverly inquired, a slight teasing tone to Ben. You however, thought she was teasing your doctor skills.

"Excuse you, my mom didn't force me to see a Wikipedia page about famous doctors with me," you said with slight humor.

Stan's eyebrows furrowed, "What kind of mom do you have?"

You looked at him straight in the eye, "Do you really wanna know?"

The Jewish boy was a bit intimidated by your statement and back off.

And after putting a cotton ball to Ben's chin and sealing it shut using tape, you were done. You sighed in relief, as Richie mockingly clapped.

"Great job, Doctor Faux!" He said --referring to your last name-- with a terrible mock of the British accent, "Now you can pursue your dream becoming a war doctor!"

"I'll pass, Patient 69," you calmly replied.

Others laughed at your joke just as Richie did.

"I'll give a pass to that one," Richie said with a grin.

"Well, I'm not needed here," Beverly said with a smile, "Hang on tough, new kid."

Ben smiled at the redhead's words of encouragement. However, before Beverly can leave, an idea came upon you.

"Hey, Bev," you called out to her. She stopped, turned around with a face of confusion, "We're going to the quarry tomorrow. Wanna come?" 

She looked surprised, before cracking into a brilliant smile. She nodded.

"I'll see you guys there, then," she winked at everyone and pointed at you, "Don't be late, graffiti girl."

"You too, pretty girl," you said with a smile. Unknown to you, just as Beverly turned the corner from the alley, the redhead lean into the wall and exhaled, heart beating out of control.

"You two seem close," Eddie commented. You shrugged.

"That's what happens if you have the right vibes, Eddie. You attract people to you."

"I'm not gonna ask what that means." Stan muttered.

"Also, great job on bringing Bowers up to her," Eddie said to Richie with glare, "You know what she did."

"What did she do?" Ben asked, curious.

"More like, who'd she do," Richie snark, "I heard the list is longer than my wang."

"That's not saying much," Stan concluded with a slight burn to the trashmouth.

"Come on, lay off," You said to Richie, "We don't know if those rumors are true. Greta could've started it all just to damage Beverly's reputation."

Bill nodded, agreeing with your statement.

* * *

Against the summer sun, you sat idly at the rock, peering down to the green waters of the quarry.

Who would've thought swimming around in (possibly) polluted water was fun?

"Ah shit, you got here before us?!" You perked up at the familiar voice, to see Richie scrunching his eyes under the harsh sun.

"Hey to you too, dude."

"S-sorry for being late," Bill appeared and you shrugged.

"Nah, I'm just too early."

After the gang was put together, they all looked at you. Whether it was embarrassment or anticipation, you don't know. They were all already stripped to their white underwears, and you can't help but laugh.

"What?" Eddie defensively asked, covering his body.

"You guys have matching underwears," you pointed out. Richie looked at the boys before turning to you.

"Yeah, it's National White Underwear Day today," he joked. You rolled your eyes, a bit surprised not to hear a dirty joke.

Finally, you took initiative and peeled away your clothes. Your shirt came off first before your pants. The boys watched you with attentive attention, all blushing to see you just in your underwears.

"Virgins, stop staring," you calmly said and that seemed to snapped them out. Only Richie continued to stare. Bill hit him in the ribs.

"What?! She said virgins only!" The trashmouth said in defense.

"Then, Richie, stop staring," you deadpanned and he pouted. He turned away.

You neatly tucked your outfits into squares, putting it aside your basket your mother had insisted to brought along. It was a bit heavy but you didn't bother to check.

Now, all you had to do was wait for Beverly.

It was an easy thing to do, unless she was late for 30 minutes. The boys decided to play Loogey, spitting down toward the quarry, which they all will be swimming into.

"When are we swimming?" You inquired to them.

Bill looked back at the entrance to the quarry, before looking back to you, "Beverly's s-still not here."

You decided you had enough. You were bored out of your mind and you were sure your legs were starting to cramp.

You stood up and walked back to the entrance of the quarry. Stan took notice of this.

"What are you doing?" He asked. This seems to grab the attention of others, who stared at you in perplexity.

You didn't answer, and ran at the top speed you can. This seemed to surprise Stan and Eddie, who was in the way.

You plummeted down, air whipping at you for two seconds, before you were engulfed in cold water. Resurfaced up, you let a slight cheer.

"Come on, boys!" You yelled with a big smile, "Swim in Mother Nature's tears!"

Then, you didn't manage to catch who was plummeting through the air. You were only greeted with a loud splash before water entered your mouth and eyes.

You coughed and wiped your eyes. Giggles entered your ears, and you opened your eyes.

She was still the same as yesterday, with January-embers hair, dotted skin with dazzling blue eyes. Her smile was still brilliant.

"Hey, graffiti girl," Beverly greeted you. You smiled, unknowing to the breath you had hold.

"Hey, Bev."

"Cat got your tongue?" She teased. You snapped out of it before chuckling.

"Is it illegal if I'm that breathless against a stunning girl like you?"

This time, she blushed. She playfully sprayed you with the water, "Stop being a player, (Y/N)."

"What?" You grinned, "Just saying."

Soon, the boys joined you. First was Stan, then Richie, then Bill, then Ben and lastly Eddie.

It was fun. It simply was, to just let go of the fact that you have at least two pending homeworks you'll never do.

Against the summer sun, you were laughing. Chuckling, giggling and smiling. Unrestrained, no more to check your surroundings.

There was one time where you had ride Bill, on the shoulders, grinning against Richie. You had won against the trashmouth, whooping and cheering at his downfall.

"Aah!" Eddie let out a short scream, alerting others and you. "Something touched me! Something touched my leg!"

You went under the water to check what it was, and managed to caught something passing by Eddie's leg. You caught it in time, and brought it up to the surface.

It was a turtle. Others 'ooh'ed at this.

"Can we keep it?" Richie asked with starry eyes.

"Do you even have the right stuff to take care a turtle?" Eddie jabbed at Richie. And so, they went into another argument.

You inspect it. Its tiny legs were wiggling, and its mouth were sometimes opened and closed. The turtle was kinda cute.

"Alan," you declared in the middle of the two's fight.

Stan furrowed his eyebrows, "That's such a human name.."

"You got anything better?"

"I got one!" Richie yelled with a grin. He picked the turtle from you, looked at the turtle dead in the eye and said, "Booty-Destroyer-Sixty-Nine."

The group settled for Alan.


	10. Black and White

Bathing under the sunlight with the radio playing in the background, you felt slightly uncomfortable with six pairs of eyes staring into you and Beverly.

You looked at the boys, eyebrow raised. They immediately turned away, embarrassed to be caught. You shook your head and brought the basket your mom packed for you closer.

Your eyes slightly marveled at the content. It wasn't much; breads spread with tuna and a few juice boxes. But after all that swimming, you were a bit hungry. You sent a silent gratitude to your mother.

You immediately went ham on the food, eating and chewing. Strangely enough, it felt pleasing. You looked at the boys, who were still avoiding your eyes.

"Hey, aren't you guys hungry after that?" You asked, referring to the previous activity you did. They all perked up at your question, and you slid the basket to the boys.

Of course, Richie was shameless as always. He immediately neared the basket and picked the packed food. Soon, the boys were feasting on the bread. You managed to pass some to Beverly.

"Food really taste better with friends," you said with a grin, knowing how corny your words were. Richie chuckled.

"No need to get so sentimental, (Y/N)," he spoke, taking another bite of his sandwich.

The trashmouth suddenly took notice of the dark bag residing between him an Ben. He snorted before imitating a poor British accent, "Newsflash, Ben! School's out for the _summah_!"

"Oh, those are not school projects," Ben gently denied, watching as the trashmouth basically bull-dozing through his bag. Richie whipped out a small postcard with a lighthouse on it. He flipped it and slightly cooed.

"Who's this for!" Ben quickly snatch it away, face slightly blushing and more embarrassed.

"No one!"

Richie got hold of a black folder, and quickly inspect it. Eddie peered down at it.

"What's with the history project?" The germaphobe asked.

"Oh- well.." Ben slightly trailed, "When I first moved here, I didn't really know anyone. So I just... hang out in the library."

"You go to the library?" Richie asked him, incredulous. "On purpose?"

Now, you were a bit curious. You quickly sat in front of the boys, and brought out your hand to Bill for the file. He passed it.

"Ooh, I wanna see," Beverly quipped in, sitting next to you in an instant. You opened the file, and were pleasantly greeted with the sight of a newspaper titled, "_Easter explosion kills 88 children, 102 total_'.

"Huh, horrifying," you calmly quipped. Beverly slightly marveled at it. You flipped to the next page, and squinted your eyes to look at the grainy photograph.

"The Black Spot? What's that?" You asked. This seemed to spark a memory in Eddie's head.

"I heard it's a bar that got burned down by a bunch of racist cults," he spoke. You shivered slightly at it.

"You think those cultists got a special place in Hell?" You asked with slight sarcasm. Beverly casually lean into your shoulder, making you slightly jumped.

However, instead of her usual long hair, it was now cut to her neck. It showed more of her curls. Bill seemed to take notice of this.

"Y-your hair, Beverly," He asked. The redhead seemed to be embarrassed by this. You smiled at her, trying not to give Bill a pointed look.

"Your hair's beautiful, Bev," You said casually, causing her to blush. She smiled, grateful for your words.

"Thanks, (Y/N)."

After a few beats of silence, you commented on Ben's folder, "Why is it all about murders and missing kids?"

"Derry's not like any other town I've been in before," Ben started, "I did a study once. And it turns out.. people die or disappear -- six times the natural average."

"You read that?" You asked, slightly scared. There was a heavy pheromone in the air. It was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

"And that's just the grown-ups," Ben clarified. You spot his adam apple slightly swaying, "Kids are worse. _Way, **way **_worse."

Seeing the grave faces of your friends, you can't help but felt sorry. You wondered if they even knew about this.

"I've got more stuff, if you wanna see it." Ben said with hesitation, breaking the tension. You spot Eddie shaking his head, muttering denials to Ben's suggestion.

* * *

And so, with your bikes, the Loser's Gang hurried to Ben's house.

The boy, upon reaching his home, immediately threw his bike aside on the front yard and entered his home. You and the rest did the same, albeit Stan who properly parked his bike.

However, the rest of you missed a new missing poster, hung by the powerline near to you. With black-and-white photograph and a neutral face, the name of the missing kid was clearly stated on the paper:

** MISSING, PATRICK HOCKSTETTER**

Richie and Eddie talked among the way, as you inspect Ben's house. It was neat, to say the least. Everything was in order.

Beverly entered (what was assumed to be) Ben's room, and the gang follows. You expected no less from Ben; there were various posters, all black and white, glued and hung to the walls of his room.

Others 'woah'ed at this, as you marveled at the sight. You grinned, looking at Ben.

"This looks cool." You complimented, and immediately attached yourself to an interesting-looking newspaper. Ben cleared his throat, blushing.

"T-thanks."

"Wow!" Richie let out, fixing his glasses to look properly at the displays. Ben beamed.

"Cool, huh?"

"No, no, nothing cool!" Richie quickly denied, eyes going from one poster to the other. Stan pointed to a paper circled with red pen.

"What's that?"

"Oh, that's Derry's township chart." Ben answered. Richie scoffed, fixing his glass one more time.

"Nerd alert."

"No, no," Ben denied, "Actually, it's really interesting."

"That's the kind of subjects nerds like, Ben," You teased, now standing before Richie and Eddie. Richie raised an eyebrow to Ben, smirking.

"What did I say, Benny?" The trashmouth cockily said, as the chubby boy sighed.

"Derry used to be a beaver-trapping camp," Ben said.

"Still is, am I right, boys?!" Richie let out with a smirk. You purposefully hit him in the ribs, which he yelped as a response. He gave you a glare, but you only silenced him with your own one.

"91 people signed that charter that made Derry. But later that winter, they all disappeared without a trace."

"The _entire _camp?" Eddie asked in disbelief. Ben nodded.

"There were rumors of Indians.. but no sign of an attack. Everyone thought it was just a plague or something but it's like.. one day, everyone just woke up and left. The only clue was a trail of bloody clothes leading to the Well House."

"Jesus," Richie let out, "You'll get in Derry's Unsolved Mysteries!"

"W-where was the Well House?" Bill asked, putting down something he had in his hand. Ben shrugged lightly.

"I don't know. Somewhere in town, I guess. Why?" Ben inquired.

"Nothing." Bill muttered, as his eyes seemed to stare deep into the glued posters.

* * *

Perking up at the sound of the phone ringing, you went downstairs to answer it.

"Hello?" You politely greeted the person on the other line. Hysterical sobs entered your ears, and the alarms immediately rang in your head.

"Beverly?" You asked, concerned, "What's wrong?"

The two of you had exchanged numbers before going home. Albeit, the girl warned you not to call her first, saying her father was strict. You understood her wish. But for her to call this early and crying, you were reasonably afraid.

"I-I need you to call others and come here. I need help..." Her voice trembled on the other line, shaky breaths accompanying her.

"Can we go to your house tomorrow? It's late now.." You hated what you were saying, but it's true. It was currently 10:35 PM, and others surely would've been asleep. "I promise we'll come tomorrow. Give me your home address."

Beverly did so, but her voice suddenly seemed so low. You didn't push it, writing her home address with a stray napkin and a nearby pen.

"Beverly," You said with an even voice, "I need you to stay strong. We'll come to you tomorrow. Whatever it is, stay in your room. Don't open the door if it's dangerous."

Beverly whimpered, but she agreed to your idea. Bidding a goodbye to her, you shakily took a breathe.

You silently beat yourself for your own precautions to her. You didn't even know what to say. But you do know what to do.

By the time the next morning arrived, you quickly get dressed for the day. Your mother seemed interested by your sudden fast pace.

"Honey, where are you going?" She asked, eating the breakfast she made. You quickly took a stray piece of bread and munch on it along the way.

"Fhill."

"What?" Your mother frowned, confused. You took the bread out of your mouth, your previous answer muffled by it.

"I'm going to Bill's house. Emergency, I don't have time."

Despite the slightly harsh words, you quickly bolted out of the house and into your (F/C) bike. Your face set into a frown, you quickly peddled toward Bill's house.

With each peddle of your bike, your heart worries for Beverly. If Bill and the rest are not up yet, you're gonna make them.

You immediately discarded your bike on Bill's house's front yard, and rapped on the door repeatedly. It didn't open immediately. Just as you were about to knock again, the door was abruptly opened.

Standing before you was a woman, with long, brown-red hair and seemed to be in her forties. She yawned, covered her mouth and looked at you in confusion. "Hello, what can I do for you?"

You brought your hand down and cleared your throat. This has to be Bill's mom. "Uh, is Bill up? I need to talk to him."

"About?" The grown woman inquired. Your brain immediately ran through multiple excuses, and landed on an unoriginal one.

"About our homework."

The woman peered behind her back, then looked at you, "Hun, I'm sure you can solve it tomorrow. Especially when it's not so early in the morning."

Your heart dropped and before you can start pleading, a familiar voice rang behind the woman's back. "W-who's at the door?"

"Bill!" Your voice came out a bit too loud, making you clear your throat. "It's me."

You heard quick footsteps before the woman stood behind him. Bill looked disheveled; with bed-hair and worn face, he looked like he didn't get to sleep much.

He immediately tried to fix his hair, talking as he do so, "W-what are you doing so early in the m-morning, (Y/N)?"

Glancing at his mother for a second, you shrugged, "History homework, dude. We talked about it yesterday, right?"

Bill seems to catch your pleading eyes, and glanced at his mother, "O-of course. Sorry, Mom, I h-have to go."

After 3 minutes of waiting for Bill to get ready, you two ride your bike, the boy following your lead. Along the way, he asked, "What's g-going on, (Y/N)?!"

You looked back at him, "It's Beverly! She called me last night. Something got to her!"

And with that response, the two of you quickly peddled faster, heading for the rest of the Loser's Club's houses.

* * *

"I didn't even get to brush my teeth, dude!" Richie complained along the way to Beverly's house. Bill sent him an irritated look.

"J-just get a mint after this!"

"What happened to Beverly?" Ben asked, worried. You shook your head.

"I don't know. But I'm sure she'll explain it to us."

Upon arriving, you saw Beverly standing before the stairs of a rundown apartment complex. She looked worried.

You and the rest neared her, perplexed. You were the first to break the air, "Bev, what's wrong?"

"I.. I need to show you guys something," She said, anxious. You and the rest looked at each other.

"What is it?" Ben inquired.

"More than what we saw at the quarry?" Richie teased.

"Shut up!" You and Eddie immediately silenced him.

"My dad will be mad if he find out I had boys over my house," Beverly admitted. You shrugged.

"We'll leave a lookout."

The group seemed to silently and collectively agree to let Richie be the lookout. He seemed to protest this idea.

"Woah, woah, woah!" He yelled in alarm, "What if her dad comes back!?"

Stan looked back to the boy, exasperated, "Do what you always do! Start talking!"

"It is a gift!" Richie weakly called out. You shook your head. He gave you a weird look.

"Aren't you joining them?"

"I'm keeping a lookout for the lookout," you said. Richie frowned.

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Yeah, and so is your jokes." 

The two of you lay down on the sidewalk, the gang's bikes surrounding you. You exhaled, hands on your tummy, while Richie put his hands under his head.

"Y'know," Richie started, "I bet she got scared from her period or something."

You looked at him, confused, "When I first got my period, I'm pretty sure I didn't freak out. Besides, why would Bev got afraid over her period, even though she knew it'll come?"

"You don't freak out when your... thing start bleeding?" Richie asked, also turned to you. You chuckled.

"Since when did you censor yourself, Rich?" You teased the boy. The boy, surprisingly, blushed.

"S-shut up, airhead." You stared him, confused at the sudden change of attitude. Since when did he even stutter?

"Talking about bleeding vaginas really make you shy, huh?"

"Dude, watch your mouth!" Richie cringed, breaking the eye-contact. You laughed, then stared back into the blue sky. There was comfortable silence wrapping the two of you.

"Hey, Richie?" You broke the silence.

"Yeah?"

"This is gonna be really personal but," You tried to focus your eyes on the shapes of the clouds in the sky, "Do you like Eddie?"

You heard his breath hitched. "Eddie? He's... my best friend, of course I like him."

"No, not in that way, Rich," you softly said, "Do you like-_like _Eddie?"

"Well, do _you _like-like Eddie?" Richie shot back, causing you to chuckle.

"Not if you do." You replied. Richie swallowed.

"That's a stupid question. Why are you asking this?" His tone started to become afraid. You looked at him, giving him the best smile you can wore.

"Because I saw the names on the Kissing Bridge," you admitted, staring back into the blue sky. "It could be anyone, yes, but... I don't know."

Richie went silent. You looked back at him again, and he looked back at you with a fearful eyes. He shook his head, "Please don't tell anyone."

Immediately, you knew what to do. You sat up, motioning Richie to do the same, and hugged him tight. The boy was surprised.

"I'm an awful friend if I told anyone about this," you said, breaking the hug, "Besides, it's not my place to see that. I'm sorry if I kinda made you scared, Richie."

The boy looked at you, stunned, before breaking into quiet sobs. You immediately soothe him, rubbing calming circles behind his back. Then, he laughed through his sobs.

"You have an impressive mood swings," you teased him. The boy took his glasses off, wiping away his tears. He chuckled at your remark.

"Oh, you should see me in my bedroom," Richie started, "My mood will constantly throw you off, (Y/N)."

You shook your head, smiling. You looked back at him, "So, Eddie huh?"

The trashmouth scoffed, "You're really gonna blame me for liking this guy? You should see him when he's all smile-y and laugh-y, (Y/N)."

You laughed, "He does look cute."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS REDDIE HOUSEHOLD, BAPEY!!!  
now before you start thinking, i have more surprises with richie >:) just wait for future chapters


	11. The First Stone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why i changed bower's car to red is because it suits the theme and red is a strong color
> 
> have fun reading :^

"Seriously, what took you guys so long?!" Richie complained, circling around the Loser's with his bike.

"Shut up, Richie!" Eddie started.

"Yeah, shut up, Richie!" Stan joined.

After (seemingly) ages lying in the sun, your gang finally left Beverly's house, all with dread expressions. You didn't dare to ask what happened, but Richie was nosy as always. And so, Beverly did explained but the trashmouth didn't believe it.

"Ohh, okay, trash the trashmouth!" Richie complained again.

"Did the bathroom seriously were covered in blood?" You asked, a bit disgusted and puzzled. Beverly and Bill nodded but Richie blew a raspberry.

"Yeah, right. Your bathroom was being like Eddie's mom when it was Halloween, I can believe your imagination." The trashmouth snark.

Bill stopped walking with his bike, "She didn't imagine it. I s-s-s-saw something, too."

The rest stopped, attentions now on Bill.

"You saw blood, too?" Stan inquired.

The boy shook his head, "Not blood. I saw... Ge-Guh-Georgie."

The name seems so taboo now. The air dropped, despite the blazing sun outside.

"It seems so real," Bill said, "But it seems like t-there's this..."

He didn't finish his sentence, as Eddie did.

"A clown." The germaphobe said with dread. He looked at the others, particularly at you, before continuing hesitantly, "Yeah, I saw him too."

Then, silence. Bill glanced at Ben, who slightly nodded. He turned to Stan. The Jewish boy looked at him dead in the eye, and nodded.

"Wait," Richie broke the heavy silence, "Can virgins only see this stuff? Is that why I'm not seeing this shit?"

You heaved an exasperated sigh, just as Stan did.

"What about you?" Stan asked you. You tried to recall any memories of terrible events, but nothing in particular came out.

Suddenly, the memory of that demonic children song came to mind. You shivered, and others noticed this.

"I don't know, I didn't saw any clown," you started, "But.. One night after dinner, I was just checking out the channels on the TV. Then, there's just this... children's song that came out. But it sounded so.."

"Weird?" Ben suggested, but you shook your head.

"No, it sounded really.. _evil_." After you said that, the tension in the air increased. Beverly looked to the ground, as Bill spare you a pity glance.

Suddenly, there were loud yelling near you, behind the thick groves of the trees. At the side, you noticed the familiar red car with a bike near it.

"Ah shit, that's Belch Huggins's car," Richie said with slight fear.

"We should probably get out of here," Eddie said. But then, Bill pointed to the bike next to it.

"Wait, isn't that.. the homeschooled kid's bike?" The stuttering boy pointed out. Suddenly, your stomach dropped. Bad feelings began to enter you, fearing for the worst.

"We have to help him," You said with a frown.

"We should?" Richie asked the stupid question. You gave him a pointed look, letting go of your bike.

"Yes!" You shout in exasperation, and others joined you running into the thick trees. The bikes fell loudly against the concrete pavement, and Stan was the last one to join as he had to park his bike properly.

You slid down, rocks and dirt coming everywhere around you. Before you, green grass and a river stood next and in front of you. By the opposite way, you spot a familiar boy and even familiar bullies.

Thinking fast, you grab unto a rock and throw it at Bowers, before the rock he held made contact with Mike. He fell down, shocked at your arrival. You heard footsteps beside you, as Beverly and Stan stood next to you.

"Nice throw, (Y/N)," Stan complimented you, mouth a bit wide.

"Thanks."

You immediately helped Mike stood up, getting him away from Bowers and the cold river. The other Loser's armed themselves with the nearby rocks.

"You Losers shouldn't try so hard!" Bowers voice rang through the air, his forehead bleeding, "She'll do you. If you ask nicely. Just like I did."

That statement seemed to refer to Beverly. He proceeded to do a strange grip over his front, his lackeys in the back grinning. You scowled at him, the first time you did so.

"No one wants your cheese dick, Bowers!" You shout, and it was followed by rock of your own. The bullies and your friends looked shocked by this, before Beverly followed your lead and others picked up their pace.

"ROCK WAAAAR!" Richie screamed, before he was hit by a rock.

With every thrown rock to the Bower's gang, it filled with the satisfaction of revenge. Every year of their life followed by the bully's harsh treatments, their own hate grow and their desire for the bully to go down also grow.

"Fuck you, bitch!" Huggins yelled, before being nailed in the face by Beverly.

Now with the privilege to cuss out the Bower's gang, you immediately took granted of the use. With every thrown rock was a special, fresh delivery of your hate speech to the Bower's gang.

"TAKE A GODDAMN MINT FRESH, MOTHERFUCKER!" You screamed to Huggins.

"DIE IN A HOLE, FAKE-ASS BLOND ASSHOLE!" You yelled to Criss.

"GO STICK YOUR DICK IN A PENCIL SHARPENER, BITCH!" You yelled to Bowers. Others didn't mind, grinning and laughing with each of your comeback.

The sheer number of your gang overwhelmed Bower's lackey, and the two immediately took off, leaving their boss fallen to the ground.

The others immediately stopped getting the rocks, huffing and panting heavily. They all watched as Bowers pathetically lay on the ground, bruises available on his whole body.

Ben was the first to left, followed by Mike which Bill helped him to get up on the ground, before Eddie, Beverly and Stan exit. You and Richie stay for a moment.

"Go blow your dad!" You started, voice full of hate.

"You mullet-wearing asshole!" Richie finished your sentence, and the two of you strongly flipped the bully off, and joined your gang.

* * *

"Thanks guys, but you shouldn't have done that," Mike softly said. The evening sun beats on your bodies, with the track of trains loudly going behind your back. "He'll come after you."

"Nah," you shrugged his worry, "Don't worry, Bowers had always been after us."

"I guess that's one t-thing we all have in c-common," Bill said to Mike.

"Yeah, homeschool!" Richie shout to Mike, a bit louder as he was in the back, "Welcome to the Loser's Club!"

The town of Derry was in a festive mood, hanging the familiar red and blue flags all over the town for the 4th of July. A band was playing, and Richie was bullying one of the members by attempting to play the musical instrument.

You had went to get ice-cream with Eddie, and payed for it. He was strangely flustered over it but you shrug it off, patting his head like you usually do.

"Why's that dumbass playing the trombone?" You asked, coming nearer to Richie's situation. Eddie gave you a look.

"That's a baritone, (Y/N)."

You blew a raspberry. "Same thing, Eddie."

Coming nearer to your group, Eddie passed one of the ice-cream cones to Richie, after the trashmouth flipped the band member off.

"What are you guys talking about?" Eddie asked, then licked his ice-cream. Richie shrugged it off.

"What they always talk about."

Ben quipped in, "I actually think it will end. For a little while, at least."

"What do you mean?" Beverly asked him, her hands in her back pocket.

Ben exhaled, and you can see him mentally preparing himself for a lengthy explanation, "So I was going through my Derry research, and I charted all of the big events. The Iron's Explosion in 1908, The Bradley Gang in '35, and The Black Spot in '62, and now kids being..."

Ben stopped himself short, his hands falling to his side. Bill gave him a silent question, but Ben continued his sentence without finishing his last one, "And I realized... this stuff's seems to happen--"

"Every twenty-seven years." You realized, words mixing with Ben. A silent cogs of wheels began to turn in your head.

"Okay, so let me get this straight," Eddie started. Your group had moved to the town's square, where a big figure of a lumberjack looms before you, "It comes out from wherever --to eat kids-- and just goes into hibernation?"

Stan, who was sitting on the bench's top rail, hummed, "Maybe it's like... what do you call it? Cicadas. You know, the bugs that come out once every seventeen years." He suggested.

Mike, who sat next to you, shook his head and voiced his opinion, "My grandfather thinks this town is cursed. He says that all the bad things in this town happens because of one thing. An evil thing that.. fed off the people of Derry."

You frowned, "But it can't be one thing. We all saw something different."

"Maybe," Mike vaguely replied, "Or maybe.. It knows what scares us the most and that's what we see."

"I-I saw a _leper_," Eddie confessed, and you can see the fear and disgust in his eyes over the creature he saw, "He-- He was like a walking infection."

"But you didn't," Stan denied, "Be-because it isn't real. None of these is. Not Eddie's _leper_, or-or Bill seeing Georgie, o-or the woman I keep seeing.."

The Jewish boy unconsciously confessed his fear. Richie, however, took the time to made an inappropriate joke.

"Is she hot?" He asked with slight pervertion. Stan looked up, disbelief before glaring into the trashmouth.

"No, Richie. She's not hot!" He said in anger, "Her face... is all messed up..!"

You tried to calm the boy by rubbing his back, and opted to voice your opinion again, "None of these makes any sense.. These all felt like a very bad dream.."

"I don't think so," Mike gently protested, "I know the difference between a bad dream and a real life."

"What did you see? You saw something, too?" You inquired to the black boy. He nodded, face grim.

"Yes. You guys know that burnt-down house on Harris Avenue? I was inside when it burned down," Mike revealed, causing you to grip his hand to calm him down. The boy gave you an appreciative look before he continued, "Before I was rescued, my.. mom and dad were trapped in the next room over from me. They were.. pushing and pounding on the door.. trying to get to me. But it was too hot. When the firemen finally found them, the skins on their hands.. melted down to the bone."

Unconsciously, Mike grip your hand tight, and you immediately ran your thumb over his knuckles. His grip seemed to loosen, but you didn't stop to calm him down.

"We're all afraid of something." Mike finished, voice slightly quivering.

A distant firecracker went off in the distance, breaking the heavy atmosphere. You gently let go of Mike's hand, giving him a reassuring look. He slightly smiled.

"You got that right," Richie lazily said, as he looked back on the performance currently taking place on the town square's platform. A tall man, with heavily red clown outfit and a tall, cap hat gave the boy a creepy smile, his make-up extending his features.

"Alright, Rich," Eddie called to the boy, "What are you afraid of?"

He looked back to the group, bits of fear displaying before his face. He fixed his glasses and answered in a quiet voice, "Clowns."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> theres not really much happening in this chapt but the next chapter is when shit truly goes down >:) god i hate pennywise, wish i can give him a knuckle sandwich 🍞👊🍞


	12. The Dark House

_We're all afraid of something._

What were you afraid of? The dark? Bugs? Fictional monsters?

The sun was now dimmer, with clouds among its way. You leisurely walked, hands on the handle of your bike. You purposefully stay behind your groups of friends, not joining their conversation.

Mike's words were stuck in your head. You were never afraid of anything; granted, you were a pessimist but didn't show it.

The dark were nothing but a concept of light. Bugs can't hurt you, you can just stomp them away. Fictional monsters? They aren't real. They're just the mind's imaginative part.

You tried opening your mind more. How about open waters? Pfft, you drink water everyday. Heights? The world is full of heights, not much to say about that. How about being abandoned or alone? Dark, but you've been there for a long time. You've gotten immune to it.

What were you afraid of? Nothing.

The truth seemed to perturbed you. Others always said people with no fears are the most inspirational people on Earth, but you don't feel 'inspirational'. It felt quite empty.

Perhaps with the way you were raised, you just... dealt with your problems. Instead of 'What if?', it became 'So What?'.

Is it normal to have no fears? You don't think so. You felt.. quite strange. Weird, freakish.

You swallowed but shook your head away from it. You'll work out this question yourself when you're home.

Entering Bill's garage, you casually sat down as Stan and the stuttering boy held up a map of-sort, with complicated routes and even more complicated drawn lines before you.

Eddie took a projector, put a seat beside you and put the projector down on it. He flicked the light from it on as Stan and Bill finished putting the map up. Beverly closed the garage door, making the area dark --except for the projector's light.

Ben passed something to Bill, and he put a single piece of a film in the projector's slot, making a brand new lines and maps appear before you.

Stan sat down next to you, as Beverly sat to your left. Ben sat in a chair, by the side of Beverly. Richie and Eddie sat behind you while Bill stood behind the projector. Mike seemed awkward, a lot of empty spaces beside him and Eddie.

"Look," Bill pointed to the map. You saw a part of it marked _'Storm Drain'_, aligning with the red lines of the map Bill and Stan had plastered, "That's where G-Guh-Georgie disappeared."

"There's the Ironwork," you pointed out, the black-and-grey building also aligning with the red lines.

"And The Black Spot." Mike pointed out to the place. Sadly enough, the building wasn't available on the map, only being marked with a small 'X' and medium-sized words; '_The Black Spot'_.

The burnt-down bar was also near the red lines, albeit a bit far.

"E-everywhere it happens, it's connected by the sewers." Bill said, making you squint. There seems to be a conspiracy..

"And they all met up at The Well House." You pointed out, connecting the dots.

"The Well House... isn't it that house on Neibolt Street?" Stan inquired, an inkling of fear in your voice. You hummed to yourself.

You haven't went near to the street, but according to others and Richie, that house was down-right ominous. Ben described the house best to you; _"The house's structure looks unstable and the front garden were full with dead flowers. It's the kind of place that gives architectures a nightmare."_

But Richie simply described the house as a "crackhead house". You took their words for it.

"You mean that creepy-ass house where the hobos likes to sleep?" Richie bluntly asked, frowning in slight disgust. Eddie suddenly took a puff of his inhaler, making you worried.

"You okay?" You softly asked him. Eddie shook his head, so you took that as a sign to leave him alone.

"I always feels like it's watching me." Beverly admitted, her voice slightly monotonous.

Eddie's gasping breath only made you more worried, so you took initiative to start calming him down. You reassuringly gave a motion of circles on his back. He slightly calmed down, giving you a grateful look.

Eddie looked back to the others, "That's where I saw it. The clown."

His piece of information seemed so important, so you mentally note that down. A clown, in a hobo house? And it's also connected to the sewers?

There was suddenly a thirst in you, to discover the mysteries and the bad events in Derry. You claimed your hand back from Eddie, and put your hand to your chin.

"T-tha-that's where _IT _lives," Bill decided. You noticed his change of words. Eddie took another puff of his inhaler.

"I can't even imagine anyone wanting to live there," Stan slightly joked, and you can't help but sense other's fears.

"Okay, okay!" Eddie suddenly stood up, surprising you. He stood before the projector, panic and fear displayed as he motions his hands as he talk, "Can we stop talking about this?! I-I-I can barely breath-- a-and this is summer-- we're kids-- I CAN'T FUCKING BREATH, I'M ABOUT TO HAVE AN ASTHMA ATTACK--!" Eddie rambled before turning back to the map, "And I'm not doing this!"

He ripped the map, causing a wave of shock amongst you. Bill demanded to him in a strong voice, "Put the map back!"

Before an argument can start, the projector suddenly began to roll an empty film, causing a blank page of white displayed before Eddie and his ghastly face.

He looked surprised at the sudden malfunction before joining your group back. The white pages suddenly began to display Bill's family, her mother smiling with a dad cap.

"What..?" Bill muttered to himself in confusion. The projector kept going, giving 3 seconds of darkness each time a new picture were shown.

"What's going on?" Stan inquired, also confused. Now, there was a picture of Bill's family going on a carousel ride.

Mike tried helping, checking the source of malfunctions. Suddenly, you realized with each switch of pictures, the projector was switching more fast.

Then, a picture of the Denbrough's family in a formal attire were displayed. But there was something disturbing about it.

The projector, with each switch, began to solely focused on Georgie's smiling face. Despite the bright grin, you can't help but felt an inkling of fear.

"Bill?" You inquired, but the loud shutter noise from the projector seemed to muffled your voice.

Then, going at a rapid speed, the projector suddenly focused on Bill's mother. Bill's mother didn't have a clear shot of her own face in the picture, blocked by her own flying red hair. But it seemed as if with each rapid switch from the projector, her hair looked as if it was being blown by the wind right at the moment.

You spot her face, mouth wide opened as if she was screaming. Then it was gone, quickly as it came. But then it was replaced with something more horrific, a clown with a grin.

"TURN IT OFF! TURN IT OFF!" Eddie screamed, as Richie tried to calm him down. The shouts of others pounded on your ears, as you kicked the projector down.

It thud harshly against the ground, papers of films now scattered around the projector. The light was turned off, thankfully.

Just as you began to calm down, the projector's light suddenly came back to life. Horrifically, the clown came back. The picture looked as if it was caught before it was ready.

The projector came to slow, showing more shots of the clown despite the slots being empty. The pictures didn't change, still blurry as if it was caught unprofessionally.

Then, suddenly, the clown disappeared.

It was if it was removed from the picture. The background was still an unknown building from somewhere.

Then, you screamed in terror as others did. The projector briefly turned dark, before shedding light to a very large --now real-- clown with rows and rows of teeth.

It looked as if it was crawling out of the frame, setting its eyesight on Stanley --who was the closest to it-- with a maniacal grin.

"STANLEY!" Richie shrieked in terror. The projector was still working, and with each 3 seconds of darkness, Stanley appeared next to you, also screaming.

The light came back on for 3 seconds. In that short time, the monstrosity began to crawl quickly toward Beverly, who was separated from you.

3 seconds of darkness. Its heavy crawls reverberated in your bones, and you screamed for your friend.

3 seconds of light. You quickly ran toward Beverly, heart determined to save her. She was covering her face in fear, screaming for dear life.

"BEVERLY!"

3 seconds of darkness. You made contact with something akin to flesh, and grabbed it for dear life. You heard short and panicked breaths by your ears. You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping whatever happened, will be painless.

2 seconds from light—

Suddenly, a penetrating glare of light entered through the cracks of your eyes. You hesitantly opened your eyes, and saw the boys --panting--, standing before the opened garage door.

You and Beverly hesitantly joined the boys, hearts shaking. Your legs felt like lead.

"Are you okay?" You whispered to Beverly, voice slightly shaking. She nodded, but then unexpectedly hugged you tight.

You hugged back, holding in your urge to cry. Eddie, with his inhaler in his hand began in frantic.

"It saw us," he said, "It saw us and It knows where we are!"

"Always," Bill vaguely replied before briskly walking to his bike, "S-so let's go."

"Go where?" Ben asked, incredulous at the stuttering boy's sudden bravery.

"Neibolt," Bill replied without hesitation, "That's where G-Guh-Georgie is."

"After that?!" Stan asked in disbelief, pointing to where the traumatic event happened.

"Yeah, it's summer," Richie said, voice quiet but loud enough for others to hear. "We should be--"

"If you say 'It's summer' one more f-fuh-fucking time!" Bill threatened in anger. You spot his eyes being glassy, his nose also getting red.

Bill didn't wait for your answers, opting to take his bike and rode off in anger.

"Bill!" You shout his name in disbelief, "Bill, wait!"

You sighed in defeat. Others stood in silence. You looked at them, and stood before them.

"Guys," You asked in a pleading tone, "We can't let him go on his own."

"I've had enough of monsters in a while," Stan shot back with an irritated gaze. You heaved an exhale, mentally squared yourself up for what you're about to do.

"I know I'm selfish," you mentally berated yourself for the opening line, "And I know Bill is too brave for his own good. But if I want to thank the person who single-handedly became my best friend, this is the only way I can repay him. I'm not asking you to join me, I know what it feels like to be afraid. But that doesn't mean I'm not. So please, give me your strength and I'll promise you!" You said with desperation, bringing your hand out, "You don't have to be afraid anymore."

After your mini speech, Beverly unhesitatingly stepped forward and put her hand together with you. You gratefully smiled, giving her a silent gratitude.

Richie joined, stacking his hand together with Beverly. "Can't let you go out with a bang alone, _amigo_," He joked, grinning. You chuckled, wiping away any semblance of tears.

"I'll go with you," Mike quietly said, and stepped forward before putting his hand on top of Richie. You smiled again.

"Thank you, Mike."

He smiled, appreciating your genuine words.

Eddie rolled his eyes before reluctantly joining you. He sighed before looking each of his friends in the eyes, "Someone gotta keep watch of the others."

"Ben? Stan?" You inquired with slight sadness. Ben nodded to himself before confidently joining your hand-group. He gave you a dimpish smile.

"Someone has to remember the tunnel system."

You nodded at him, before turning to Stan. He looked pressured, as if he was afraid others will hate him for his decision.

"Stan, I want you to know you're still brave for whatever decision you make," You spoke. For a moment, Stan almost scoffed, thinking you were lying. But the look in your eyes --with utmost confidence and honesty-- he can't help but let his stone expression fell.

And so, he decided.

"Bill!" Beverly shout to the boy. Your bikes clattered to the ground, Stan included. "Bill, don't go in there alone!"

The boy turned to you, face milliseconds away from breaking, "Look, you don't have to come with me! But what happens if another Georgie goes missing? Or another Betty? Or another Ed Corcoran? Or one of us?!"

He demanded, referring to your large group of friends. He continued his rant, "Are you just gonna pretend it isn't happening like anyone else in this town?! Because... I can't."

His voice broke, but Bill continues, "I go home, and all I see is that Georgie isn't there. His clothes, his toys, his stupid stuffed animals... but he isn't. So, walking into this house, **is as if walking into my own.**"

"Wow," Richie gaped. You sighed, getting what he was thinking.

"What?" Ben inquired to the trashmouth, but you answered.

"He didn't stutter even for once," You pointed out to the group.

Bill was already getting in the house. You exhaled, preparing yourself for the worst to come.

"I guess seeing a demonic clown can be crossed off my bucket list." You joked at the moment.


	13. Cut Strings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i need to ask yall something
> 
> it chapter two is recently out, and i was wondering if yall would like a sequel. yknow, with you and the gang grown up. (god jessica chastain is so hot) 
> 
> tell me :^ because i honestly need opinions other than my own

"Wait!" 

Stan suddenly yelled, and the Loser's turned to him. The Jewish boy looked slightly scared but he kept his tone under control. "Um.. shouldn't we have... some people keep watch? You know.. just in case.. Just in case something bad happens?"

"W-w-who wants to stand watch?" Bill asked, his hand nearly twisting the knob to the inside of Neibolt house.

Almost everyone --minus you and Beverly-- lift their hands up. The volunteers looked at each other with silent judgement and disbelief. You sighed through your nose.

Slowly, the rest put their hands down in defeat.

Richie, you and Eddie decided to take initiative, following Bill into the looming house.

Bill twist the knob on the door, it creaking and opening slowly. Immediately, waves of dirt and a foul smell enters your nose.

You winced but kept going. The sunlight from the outside world guide your eyes, squinting to see beside the cobwebs and dust.

"Can't believe I pulled the short straw," Richie said, his voice echoing into the dark house, "You guys are lucky we're not measuring dicks."

"Shut up, Richie." You softly said. The sunlight can only shed light so far. You were thankful there were windows in the house, giving a slight light in the dark house.

"Oh god, it smells bad," Eddie complained. He stood before the wide entrance of (what seemed to be) the living room.

"Don't breathe through your mouth," Richie warned.

"Why?" The germaphobe inquired to the trashmouth.

"'Cause then, you're eating it." Richie explained shortly with slight disgust. Seconds after, you heard Eddie making a gross sound akin to throwing up. You shook your head at his defiance.

After a moment of peace, Richie decided to take a left turn to another space. Heavy mix of cobwebs and stray branches reside above a worn sofa, and you spot Richie taking something from it.

"Richie?" You called out to him, confused. You walked closer to him, and spot a wrinkled piece of paper in his hand. "What is it?"

"I-it says I'm missing," Richie said, his tone slightly breaking. You peered at the paper just as Eddie and Bill joined you two.

**MISSING, RICHARD TOZIER.**

"You're not missing, Rich," You confidently said, almost taking the fake paper out of his hand. However, he seemed transfixed on it, taking the paper away from you.

"I was born in Derry!" He yelled, fear overtaking him, "That's my shirt! That's my hair! That's MY FACE--!"

His voice slowly starts to rise in panic. You immediately tried to calm him down.

"Richie, Rich!" You called out to him, but he kept rambling in fear, pushing and nudging away from your touch. Finally, you shook him briefly and yelled his name, "RICHIE, LOOK AT ME!"

He panted, and you set your eyes to his magnified ones, your hands planted deeply unto his shoulders. "That's not real," you referred to the paper, now fallen to the ground near you. You kicked it away to get your point across, "None of that is real. You're here, right in front of us, and your parents surely do remember you, an hour ago when you left your house."

Richie seemed to calm down, and you nod reassuringly to him. You hold his hand, giving a comforting squeeze.

**_"HeLLO?!" _**

Suddenly, a deep voice echoed from upstairs, shaking away from your group's mild panic.

You looked up just as the three did, confusion and fear began emanating in the atmosphere.

**_"HeLLo..!"_**

The unknown voice of a female repeated again, as you shuffled to take a step forward. There was heavy sounds akin to something dragging itself in the ground --accompanying the voice.

You looked up to the rickety stairs.

**_"Help me, please..!"_**

You exhaled, mentally preparing yourself for what was about to come.

The stairs cricked heavily under you and the three's steps. Many cobwebs and dust collected itself on the ceiling and the stairs, respectively.

Heart beating furiously against your chest, the second floor greets you. Stray and broken pieces of furniture reside before you. You passed it, and came sight to a very long hallway upon turning right.

You looked back and spot a window, with a cross-shape on it, shedding brown-orange light into the area. You glanced at Richie, Eddie and Bill, taking in their faces.

Whatever's about to come, you were ready for it.

Bill took a step forward at the long hallway, where a slight ajar door was situated. Through the crack of the doors, there were the familiar brown-orange right. Still, the thought didn't comfort you. If only, it made you more nervous.

Richie and Bill bravely walked forward, you and Eddie following. At least, you hoped the germaphobe was. Upon reaching the middle of the hallway, you felt a strange cold breeze over you. You turned to your left, noticing a strange crack in the door. You walked closer, squinting your eyes.

Is that a door? At least, you thought so. Your hand came contact with it, but you immediately cringed, feeling the grains of dust on the door collected at the pads of your hand. You wiped it away before opting to open the door by using your feet.

The room was dark, strange considering it was daylight and there were windows. But it was as if the windows were built underground, the dirt and the earth blocking the ray of sunlight. But the room was strange; there were a single desk-lamp residing on a table. You felt like this room was an interrogation room in those crime series you used to watch. Under the bright lamp, it was merely focused on a single letter. It was as if the room refused to even come near anything in light, pinching out whatever that could give source to it.

You didn't knew what compelled you to even come near it, but the white letter made you curious for its content. You looked around the room.

"Whatever you're doing, I'm not afraid." You bravely declared, and grabbed the white letter. That clown can't scare you; it's just merely a spineless coward who can't even scare you right in front of your face.

Your eyes roam to the content of the letter;

** _To Mrs.(L/N) and Mr. (L/N)_ **

** _Your daughter came to school with a box-cutter. I can't help --as the council of Indiana Middle School-- but to worry over this incident. Of course, the safety of Miss (L/N) is important to me just as other students are. Numerous students have stated to be very uncomfortable in the presence of your daughter and even reported to me that they had seen your daughter in a very distressed state. Is everything alright in your household? Perhaps we can improve her by giving her a balloon! After all, they float. Just like her mental state._ **

Suddenly, the letter didn't seem so appealing to you. Your own breath hitch at your real surname. How long has it since you heard it? It felt like an old skin to you; that girl who used to show her pessimistic remarks. You're disgusted by her. (L/N) is no longer you; you are (Y/N) Faux. Even your parents told you so, and parents can't be wrong.

"What a concerning letter!" Suddenly, an oily voice shrieked. You flinched, and saw someone sitting at the desk. Your eyes widened. The man looked familiar.

He wore a black hat, with professional black suit. A cigar was in his hand, wafting smoke from the burnt edge. His face was wrinkled and his nose was hooked. His eyes was dark, no iris in sight. He wheezed a breathless laugh, making you jump more.

"Oh, your council knows nothing about you, (Y/N)!" He wheezed just as he put out his cigar, "A simple 'pop' to her back and she would know no more! Of course, that's what your father asked of me."

Your breath hitched at the mention of your father. The man grinned, showing his rotting teeth, "Your father is _aaalwaays _worried for you, (Y/N)~! He even call me and my friends to watch over you in school! We are such nice fellas!"

"You're wrong," you shakily denied. You knew who this man now. Back in Indiana, you saw him held your father at gunpoint until your father passed something to him. It was through the window of your bedroom you saw it. It was in the dead of the night, but you knew what you saw, and your father's terrified expression. But your father was a nice man, he would never dip so low, "My dad would never be part of you."

"Say that to the people he met!" The man bellowed, which was followed by that terrifying wheezing laugh, "Ohh, I remember when he had played 'Water-gun' with your classmates! Though, they didn't seem to like it. He kept aiming at their heads."

The man in black shrugged, as the weight of your father's sins began to weigh you down.

"NO!" You screamed, the hot anger and freezing panic began pulsing in your veins, "My dad is not a killer! He--HE--!"

"Oh?" The man airily let out, before he smiled. A normal smile. He brought out something from his lap and put it on the desk. It was a worn-down box, like a poor imitation of a birthday box. But there was strange red liquids dried on it, making you afraid.

With the man's silent command, you near the box. Your heart beat quickly against your rib-cage, ready to fall out. Your right hand held the box, lightly shaking, as your left hand opened the box slowly.

You screamed and dropped the box. Familiar tufts of brown hair greeted you. The box broke down, making you scream more, tears threatening to fall down your cheeks at the gruesome sight.

It was Jane, and her severed head rest on your feet, glassy brown eyes staring into your soul. You cried heavily, sobs began mixing with your fear. Suddenly, the amalgamation of the familiar man disappeared, only his heavy chuckles remaining in the door. Then, standing before you was your own father, with a grim face and a very familiar outfit like the previous man.

He kicked the desk away, his eyes hard and cold. He neared you, and grabbed a familiar shape from his waist.

"(Y/N)," He said with a heavy sigh, "I didn't want to do this, but.. You saw this." He referred to Jane's head. You were speechless, cries of desperation clawing at your throat to get out. But you only stare at your own father, who raised you since you were very little, put a gun to your forehead.

Hot tears began to fell down your cheeks, as you looked back into 'your father', the hole of the gun aimed at you.

_Wait a minute_, your stubborn side began to rise, _this isn't real_.

The thought was thrown out of your head the moment you stepped into this room. This isn't real, none of this real. Jane _is _alive, your father isn't this rip-off, and you were sure your father didn't have blood on his hands.

This time, anger greet you. Only pure anger, hatred frothing and boiling inside you. Whoever this bitch was-- trying to impersonate your father and fears--, they're clearly trying to get a free service of knuckle sandwich from you.

You stare at the outlet of the gun, before looking straight at 'your father', "What's the year I was born in?"

He looked surprised at the sudden question, grip on the gun loosening before it straightened, "1976."

Fear was now out of your system. You stood up, and strangely, the fake amalgamation still didn't pull the trigger of his gun. You stepped over Jane's head before picking it up. You carefully watched the details, no more terrified.

"My dad don't even remember where I was born," You revealed the truth, causing the man to slacken, "Do you really think he'll remember the year I was born in? He's 50 now, he's old."

You tossed aside the fake Jane's head. You stepped closer to the man, and he backed off until you gripped his hand, where his hand was still holding the gun. His posture froze, and you switched the gun to your hand. It felt heavy but you pushed the fact aside. You stare at the very face of your father, before aiming the gun on him.

His breath quickened, eyes flickering between you and the gun perched on his forehead. You scowled at the fake man.

"You disgust me. If you're gonna rip people off, at least do it properly."

And so, you pulled the trigger.

* * *

A sudden harsh _bang! _resounded in the Neibolt's house. Beverly, Mike, Ben and Stan quickly took notice of this. Mike, in particular, seemed to recognize the sound.

"That sound.." The quiet boy muttered. Ben took notice of this.

"What? What's with the sound?" The cherub-boy inquired. Stan and Beverly listened, interested to hear Mike's thoughts.

"It really sounds similar to the bolt pistol I use back at the farm." Mike admitted, and his remark everyone unsettled. Stan voiced his uneasiness.

"Do you think.." But he didn't finished his sentence, the prospect too terrifying to him.

The four Loser's exchanged uneasy glances. Beverly looked at the sharp tips of the rusted gates behind her. It looked easy to detach it from the ground.

She unhesitatingly grip the iron, rough texture greeting her hand. The three boys looked confused by her action, just as the redhead successfully yank out one of its sharp spears.

Beverly made way for the house, resolution set to save (Y/N). She looked back to the three boys, "I'm going in."

"But Bill said--"

"Screw Bill's order," Beverly slightly snapped, cutting off Stan's sentence, "I'm checking them. That gun-shot can't be good."

And so, the three boys immediately followed Beverly, feeling too awkward and scared to be left standing in front of the Neibolt's house without the brave redhead.

* * *

Right after you shot your father, he began shaking and muttering gibberish like a madman. The hole where you put a bullet into his brain didn't even bled, only showing an endless pitch of darkness in the small hole.

You immediately put your left hand under your right hand's wrist, supporting the weight of the heavy gun. The 'man' then, unexpectedly, began to dissolve into a mix of red and black liquid that looked similar to lava.

You immediately stepped away from it, before looking at the gun. You felt ridiculous and threatened by this asset, so you did a justifiable thing: you threw the gun into the dangerous liquid. You quickly exit the room, not wanting to be the victim of your own rash decision.

What were you supposed to do with a gun, anyways? Shoot people? Yeah right.

You shut the door behind you with a rather loud _slam_. You sure hope it will anger that damn clown, to disrespect it in its own home.

Regret and fear fully slammed back into your system. When you held the gun, it felt like an extended version of your arm. And your father.. 

No, you denied desperately, I'm not a killer!

Deep within your soul, at the young age of 13, you were afraid of your own potential for this type of danger. Were you really capable killing a man? Would you?

The question prod at the back of your mind, demanding an answer. With each resonance, your fear only grew.

You looked down at your hand. It was shaking, but still the regular color of (S/C). Even your instincts immediately knew what to do with that gun.

_Shut up! I'm not like Dad!_

Your denial grew as fear began increasing, but you shook it off.

Right now, you need your usual 'So What?' instead of a 'What If?'.

You decided to search for your friends, glancing between the end and the beginning of the hallway.

The door at the end of the hallway was shut, no longer open. You opted to enter the room at the end of the hallway, briskly walking to open it.

You scowled, seeing a familiar dark room. However, there was an open hole in the ground, shining light into the room slightly.

You peered down, curious to see what was down. Strangely, there was a broken dinner desk. But then, your heart rate increased upon hearing a poisonous voice and a whimpering voice.

That last one sounds familiar.

"Eddie?!" You shrieked, worried for the boy. Without hesitating or seeing the outcome, you jumped down the hole, using your feet as a landing.

You landed on the ground with a slight ache in your bones, but you ignored it, as your eyes settled on a gruesome sight.

Eddie was there, for sure, but he was in a clutch of something truly hideous and familiar.

With long, sharp nails, the used-to-be gigantic clown held Eddie's cheeks tightly. The germaphobe was whimpering in fear.

The clown turned to you, surprised before it morphed into cruel grin of pleasure. You didn't reciprocate the feeling.

You were in pure shock, just as the door behind you pounded open.

"EDDIE!" Richie yelled, before him and Bill joined you in a catatonic shock over the familiar clown.

"(Y-Y/N), get away from It!" Bill warned you, pulling you back by your arm roughly. You didn't protest, disgust and fear mixing inside your veins. The clown turned to Bill, its creepy smile dropped.

"_This isn't real enough for you, Billy?_" The clown spoke, voice high and squeaky. "I'm not real enough for you?!"

"Holy shit.." Richie let out, breathless.

It ignored Richie, before its red lips turned back into a menacing smile, "**It was real enough for Georgie!**"

It let out a familiar wheezing laugh, and quickly got up from Eddie. You screamed in fear, Richie and Bill holding you tight, joining in your shrieks. 

However, before It can land a single slice on your hair, Beverly suddenly appeared, stabbing through the head of the clown with an iron that looked familiar to one of the rusted gates outside the house.

You and the three boys were in shock, looking at Beverly in disbelief. Eddie let out a breathe of disbelief.

Beverly joined you, sticking close to your figure as she stared at her own work in horror.

The iron spear she had used stabbed the clown through It's eyes and out of It's forehead. Strangely, blood oozes out of the dangerous wound but it floats, as if gravity were pulling the red liquid up.

"Get out of there!" Mike suddenly shout to the four of you, snapping the four of you out of the horrific trance. You immediately joined the injured Eddie, him shrieking and yelling in pain.

Upon coming closer, you noticed his hand --the left one-- were severely twisted and angled at a painful degree. His hand was broken, that's for sure.

Suddenly, the clown let out a guttural growl, causing fear and panic to enter your group again. You saw It moved, before turning Its ugly head.

It's face was severely ruined, with It's eyeballs going at a different direction. Large teeth were peeking from It's jaw, as saliva was dripping from it.

You knew what to do. Looking at your friends' terrified faces, you immediately stood up and shield them, grabbing haste of Beverly who was also afraid.

"(Y/N), NO!" Eddie protested just as others did, pulling and grabbing you to make you stand down.

You, however, had enough. This clown can go die in a hole.

"GO BACK TO HELL, YOU GODDAMN CLOWN!" You screamed at It with hatred, ignoring your own fear. You stared at It's deformed face.

It's nails suddenly extended, much like a cat, ripping It's white gloves. Others began to urge you to stand down, but you refused to do so.

Their shouts of panic and fear only made you stand taller, just as the clown began advancing toward you. You only gave none of It's satisfaction, giving your own best hand-made glare.

Suddenly, It attacked Ben, claws aimed at his belly, making the boy yelped in pain. Your alarm systems immediately activated, but you didn't went near the boy as Mike immediately tried to help him. Stan could only watch, paralyzed much like a butterfly in a spider's web.

The clown did a poor imitation of a bow, as if It just gave you one of It's best performance. You watched him slink up and disappear through the door where Bill and Richie came in, joining the shadows.

"Don't let It get away!" Bill suddenly ordered, making his way to follow the monstrous clown. He pushed past you and immediately disappeared with the shadows.

You were snapped out of your haze, as Eddie and Richie were arguing. You immediately tried to calm them both down, but Eddie suddenly shout loudly.

"O-okay, I'm gonna snap it into place!" Richie shout in warning.

"DO NOT FUCKING TOUCH ME!" Eddie shout in anger. Bill joined you back, inspecting the condition.

"Eddie, Eddie, calm down!" You said to him, frowning in worry.

"DON'T TELL ME TO FUCKING CALM DOWN, I'M--!"

Richie suddenly grabbed Eddie's arm and snapped it back into place. It noticeably let out a loud crack, just as Eddie let out a pained wheeze.

* * *

You immediately ran away from the Neibolt house, ignoring your own lungs burning for oxygen.

In the end, you had to put Eddie in a basket, him sobbing along the way. Your bike were the only one to have a basket, so Richie put him down in it.

Despite the debilitating fear inducing your veins to peddle your bike faster, you sent a worried look to Eddie.

"Eddie, are you okay?"

He didn't answer, only muffling his pained whines and holding his broken arm tighter.

Bill lead the way to Mrs. Kaspbrak's house, and she had a reasonable anger to be mad at your group.

"You! You did this!" She said in anger, fingers pointing to all of you. Her face was red, and she wore her daily outfit.

"Mrs. K, we were attacked a-a-and--" Bill tried to reason with the woman.

"Don't!" She said, cutting the boy off as she put Eddie in her car, "Don't try to reason your way out of this."

The door shut with a loud _thud_. Mrs. K grabbed her keys, but her grip accidentally loosened and it fell to the ground.

Beverly tried to help, "Let me--"

"Step back!" Mrs. K shout, and grabbed her car keys. She looked at Beverly in the eyes with a disgusted and cruel grin, "Oh, I've heard of you, Ms. Marsh. And I don't want a dirty girl like _you _touching my son." The woman said with venom.

You almost lashed out at her, but held it in. Beverly seemed to not be bothered by the older woman's comment. You unhesitatingly brought your hand to Beverly's, giving her a comforting look. She only returned it with a half smile.

"Mrs. K, I s-s-swear---"

"No!" The woman cut Bill's sentence again, "You are all monsters! _All _of you. And Eddie is done with you. Do you hear? Done!"

The woman seemed to have enough and finally rode her car. Your group could only watch with broken hearts, as the car drove and became more distant.

"I saw the well," Bill admitted, after the car disappeared from your sight, "W-w-w-we know where It is and-and next time, we'll be better prepared."

"NO!" Stan suddenly shout. You turned to him, and his face was riddled with anger, fear and disbelief as he looked at Bill, "No next time, Bill! You're insane!"

"Why?" Beverly demanded to the Jewish boy, "We all know no one's gonna do anything."

"Eddie was nearly killed!" Richie protested to the redhead, "And look at this motherfucker!" The trashmouth pointed to Ben's injuries, "He's leaking Hamburger Helper!"

"We can't pretend It's gonna go away," You joined, face slightly riddled with anxiety. You turned to the cherub-boy, "Ben, you said it yourself. It comes back every 27 years."

"Fine!" Ben said in irritation, "I'll be forty and far away from here!"

The boy turned to Beverly, "I thought you said you wanted to get out of this town."

Beverly returned his gaze with a strong look, "Because I want to run towards something! Not away."

"I'm sorry," Richie cut in, pointing to you and Beverly, "I'm sorry, who invited Molly Ringwald and Leia Skywalker into the group?!"

You deadpanned, while Beverly gave the trashmouth a middle finger.

"Richie.." Stan warned the boy but the trashmouth didn't heed his warning.

"I'm just saying, let's face facts, real world!" Richie said before looking at Bill, "Georgie is _dead_. Stop trying to get us killed, too." 

"Georgie is not dead!" Bill strongly clarified, blocking Richie from going home. Richie shook his head.

"You can't save him, but you can still save yourself."

Bill blocked the boy's way again, infuriated, "No, t-t-take it back! You're scared and-- we all are, but TAKE IT BACK!"

The stuttering boy pushed Richie strongly in the chest. Richie went down by a few meters from Bill, before quickly reciprocating Bill's movement.

Bill only held Richie by the scruff of his neck before punching Richie in the face.

"Bill!" You warned him, quickly holding him back before he can do any more damage to the fallen trashmouth.

"YOU'RE ALL A BUNCH OF LOSERS!" Richie yelled through gritted teeth, just as Stan and Mike held him back. There was no irony in his sentence, no more the loving nickname he always used on others.

"STOP!" You yelled, your sanity almost breaking. The boys and Beverly stared at you, "This is what that fucking clown wants! It wants us to be divided!"

Beverly joined in, "We were all together when It was there. _That's _why we're still alive!"

"Yeah?!" Richie sarcastically asked, fixing his glasses, "Well, I wanna keep it that way!"

He finished his sentence, and purposefully hit Bill in the shoulder.

Stan joined Richie, before Ben silently joined them. You noticed Mike also joining them.

"Mike.." You weakly called out to him in desperation. He turned to you, heartbroken.

"Guys," he said with an exasperated yet sad sigh, "I can't do this."

He looked to the ground, bit his lip before looking back at you, "My grandad was right; I'm an outsider. Gotta stay that way.."

Mike was the last one to join, and the last one to leave.

Tears pricked your eyes, watching your group of friends broke like a fragile piece of mirror. You unhesitatingly brought Beverly and Bill into a group hug, sobs wrecking your body after the two held you tight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as you can see, i cant write horror :3


	14. And Then, She Snapped

The month of August came quietly.

The harsh sun didn't changed in the slightest; still beating upon your body everytime you go out. The hot breeze was still there, beating down on your neck everytime you took a trip to Derry's center.

But the friends did change. Richie, Mike, Ben, Stan and Eddie was no more your friends. Everytime you would see their faces, you could only look away, with the only emotion of hurt available in you.

You can't even see Eddie anymore. He was under house arrest for the rest of the summer, courtesy of his mother. You don't think he even want to go out of his house.

You can only see Bill and Beverly, and even those moments can be suffocating and silent.

Where was Richie's jokes? Your mind would ask you, Where were Ben and Mike's chatter about school? Stan's occasional, shy laugh about the jokes you crack? Eddie's frantic talking and the few smiles he let pass?

It hurts. You only knew these different individuals under six months and yet, the bond you formed were unbreakable.

Keyword: _were_.

Yes, you were mad. Mad at Richie for his disrespect for Bill's wish. Mad at Bill's own inability to calm himself down. Mad at Eddie's mother for not listening, but you were more mad at her for even _daring _to say those words to Beverly.

But deep down, you can't blame them. Well, except for Mrs. K.

Richie was Bill's best friend, so saying those words to him must have pained him, too. Bill was the older brother of his family, and through your own experience, older siblings were the most scary people if purposefully angered.

Today was another dreadful day. You, Bill and Beverly had planned to meet at the quarry again. You figured others seeing their own friends should made them excited, but only a cold feeling reside your stomach where the happy dopamine should be.

You arrived at the quarry, spotting Bill's bike, Silver. Your own bike rest next to his, letting it crash to the ground unceremoniously like you usually do.

You immediately found Bill, with pieces of rocks beside him. He perked up and turned back, offering his smile with his thick lips.

You tried for a smile. It was better than nothing. You sat down next to Bill, saving a spot for Beverly.

Bill proceeded to pick one of the rocks by him, and threw it down the quarry. Through the distance, you saw a ripple in the green waters from the rock.

"What a fun hobby you got," You teased, before opting to pick one of the rocks. Bill let out an amused huff through his nose.

"It's b-b-better than sitting at home." The boy spoke. Immediately, you remembered his words back at the Neibolt house.

You softly sighed at the memory. You looked at Bill, a neutral and unreadable expression on your face. Bill noticed this, staring back at you with akin to expectation and mild shock.

"Are you not afraid, Bill?" You whispered to him, before grabbing a rock next to him. You missed the way he swallowed at your action.

Sometimes, you wondered if Bill was even okay. He was so neutral you can't even read him, always standing there, not in the shadows. But he was not in frame, either. He always managed to keep his head up despite how bad the situation was, a trait that you were jealous of.

How does he do that? His own aloof nature always attracts others to him. You were pretty sure everyone in the group admired him, and you can see their view. He was always so head-strong, confident and not to mention the fact he was handsome.

"I don't know," Bill spoke, breaking you from your thoughts, "I g-g-guess being an older brother means s-something."

He tried to joke, looking at you, but his own smile dropped seeing your truly curious look. Bill looked at his joined hands, before softly exhale.

"To be honest, I d-don't know," he spoke, and this time, you have the feeling he was being honest, "I c-c-can't let anyone down by being afraid. My parents even need me at times, and Georgie was.. I mean, is always been looking up to me. I can't.. I _refuse _to let myself be afraid at times, because if I am, then everyone will do it, too. I don't want that for them. I want-- _need _to be a reliable person for everyone, because then, everyone will be happy. And that means I'll be happy, too."

You were shocked. Seeing Bill talked about his issues, seeing him vulnerable, it made you smile. He was a normal boy, after all.

Like many times with others, you brought your hand and connected it with Bill's. You smiled at the boy, as he looked surprised and embarrassed from your bold action.

"Bill, you can always be afraid," you spoke, staring into the green waters of the quarry again, "No one would be disappointed. Heck, I think some of us would be relieved. You're always so.. I don't know, cool? And brave, too. But sometimes, I wish you can talk about your problems like all of us do. You don't need to be our outlet. You can talk to us, and we'll help you with it. You're not any less reliable if you do so."

Bill looked at you, shocked. You constantly missed the way others blushed around your very presence, but this time, you caught Bill's red cheeks.

But he split his lips into that cute smile, and through Bill's own point of view, he felt like a love-sick fool.

"T-thank you, (Y/N)," He spoke, looking at you in a new light. A beat of silence passed the air. It wasn't uncomfortable or awkward, just cozy.

Bill looked down at your hand, unsure what to do next. Do he pull away? But it seemed rude to do so. But then again, he felt his hand slowly starting to become sweaty and he's afraid you'll be uncomfortable by the prolonged physical contact.

Bill was never a person to be so intimate. Sure, Georgie is a different case seeing as he is his little brother, but Bill was never so close to his friends. He felt as if intruding their personal space, but more importantly, he was afraid others will get the wrong idea.

He was bad at starting physical contacts yet he craved it. Why can't others understand he just wished to held his friends like they are diamonds?

And so, Bill broke his own comfort. His focus immediately zeroed in to your intertwined hands, and he squeezed it.

Lightly, might he add. Yet the light force already made him a stumbling fool. You didn't seem to mind, only squeezing his hand back before trailing light circles on his hand.

Bill can feel his own face, hot against his bones. You were so shameless and yet here he was, panicking over his own move a second ago. He was high on your comfort, something he wished his parents had gave him even after he hit 13 years of age.

"Bev's really coming late," You said, breaking the silence. Bill snapped out from his thoughts and seemed to realized the missing presence of the redhead.

You were frowning. Bill doesn't like that. Finally, he let go of your hand despite with a slight reluctance.

"M-Maybe she walked," Bill tried to reason, but even he couldn't ignore the concern in his stomach. He knew the redhead's strict father. Perhaps the old man had kept her at bay?

"Why don't we go to her house, to check if she's even ready?" You suggested.

Bill remembered back to Beverly's warnings, back when before she showed his friends her own bathroom, sprayed with blood.

_"My dad will be furious if he found out I invited boys to my house." _The boy recalled. But he looked at you, face riddled with concern. Perhaps you can convince Mr. Marsh to let him in.

Bill nodded, agreeing to your suggestion. "Maybe she's j-j-just finishing her homeworks."

And with that note, you stood up and helped Bill to stand up. You both briskly walked to your bikes, each tumbled into each other.

The ride to Beverly's home was short. 

When you arrived at the usual run-down looking apartment, you noted there were no kids by the stairs or the grasses, unlike the last visit when you were here.

You and Bill rode the stairs, your loud footsteps thundering and shaking through the flimsy iron.

When you arrived at Beverly's home, a feeling of confusion and slight apprehensiveness entered you. The door to Beverly's home was wide open.

You and Bill glanced at each other, and entered her home. You noticed a table thrown aside as you entered the house, and it fueled your irrational fear for the girl.

You and Bill ventured deeper into her home. Upon reaching a hallway, there was no sight of a familiar redhead.

"Beverly?" Bill inquired out-loud. No one answered.

You turned to the left, seeing a short hallway that lead to a room. The door was wide open, and the sight displayed before you froze your insides into fear and panic.

There was a man, laying on the tiles of the bathroom floor, unconscious. Copious amount of blood leaked from his head and soaking through his mundane grey uniform.

You tapped Bill's shoulder to catch his attention to the disturbing sight, pointing at the dead(?) body with shaking fingers.

"Is-Is that Bev's dad?" You inquired, voice slightly shaking. Bill nodded, grabbing your waist before you can near the man.

He abruptly turned to a new room at the end of the corridor, straight way. You entered it, and clusters of different types of dresses and many different things greeted you.

But your eyes weren't focused on that. Written on the ceiling with broad letters, you can see the color of the ink; blood red.

** _ "YOU'LL DIE IF YOU TRY"_ **

Immediately, panic seized you. There was nobody else in town that can paint the walls with blood.

And the only person --no, demon-- that came to your mind was that dreaded clown.

Immediately, you and Bill spurred into action, panic and fear inducing you.

* * *

There was only one reasonable action to do: call the Loser's.

But it reasonably proved to be hard, seeing as your group of friends disbanded just under a month ago.

But this was serious. Beverly's life was at stake and you were not gonna let some fucking petty arguments kill your best friend.

And so, you split your roles. Bill will get Richie and Eddie, while you search for Stan, Mike and Ben.

"If I'm not too late," Bill added, trying to keep his panic down, "We'll get Ben together."

While Bill head toward the arcade for Richie, you head for Stan's house.

"Bike faster, fucking damnit!" You cursed to yourself, ignoring the burning ache of your legs.

Throwing your bike down with an unnecessary force, you arrived at Stan's house. You huffed and panted, before quickly riding the stairs toward the door of his home.

You rapped on the door quickly, anxious while still catching your breath. Two seconds passed before it was opened by a woman, with wrinkles adorning her features and a familiar brown-colored curls of hair on her head.

You figured quickly this was Stan's mother. You looked at her, trying to keep your anxiety to yourself, "Mrs. Uris, I'm so sorry to bother you, but I need Stan. It's an urgent thing."

She looked possibly worried from your disheveled appearance, "Hun, are you alright? Do you need to sit down?--"

"Please," You wheezed out, "Please get Stan. I need him!"

Mrs. Uris was taken aback by your forceful demand, but she quickly nodded and closed the door. 

You wiped the sweat on your brows, as the door opened again in three seconds. In his glory, with the same curly hair gifted from his mother, Stan looked at you in disbelief and shock.

"Stan!" You shout a bit too loud, "C'mon, we need to go! Bill's asking us to meet up!"

Stan hesitated, before whispering something to his mother. The woman nodded before disappeared went into the comfort of her own home.

Stan looked at you akin with dissatisfaction, folding his hands together. You frowned.

"What are we stalling for? Let's go!"

The boy sighed sharply before looking at you in anger, "First, you and Bill nearly got us killed. Second, you showed up at my house during my family's reunion. Third, it's been about a month since we spoke to each other. What do you want now?"

His tone was angry, and you can't help but stare at him in disbelief. The rope of patience within you snapped, just because a boy who was reasonably angry at you asked a reasonable question.

You grabbed Stan's collar, face immediately went into a scowl. Stan looked frightened by your sudden change of mood.

"ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?!" You shout, ignoring the fact that his parents could probably hear your vulgar language, "I don't fucking care if it's been a month since we last talked! BEVERLY IS IN FUCKING DANGER AND YOU'RE JUST GONNA LET A MONTH-OLD, SHITTY ARGUMENT KILL HER!?"

You panted by the end of your speech, staring into Stan's speechless expression. You continued, though with less edge, "It got Beverly, Stan! We need to save her."

You let go of the boy's collar, regret began painting you. You clutched your own head, dizzy from the sudden outburst of your own anger. Tears pricked your eyes, as you said the next sentence softly.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry, Stan. I don't know what got to me, but please.."

You gripped the boy's shoulder, desperation and fear openly displayed upon your face. Tears easily stream down your face, as you sob through your next sentence.

"_Please.. _Beverly's in danger. I.."

You cried more, heavy tears of regret and guilt began flowing from you.

Perhaps you were a making of your own parents. But you didn't want this. You didn't meant to yell at Stan. He doesn't deserve this harsh treatment.

"(Y/N).." Stan softly spoke. Why were you so brave and selfless? Stan couldn't get it, at first. You were always so careless and willing to sacrifice yourself, as if you can grew another pair of arm or another head if it disappeared.

He couldn't get your dedication to why you want to protect everyone so badly. But then, he understood. Much like the times he let Richie or Bill copy his mathematic homework, you were just trying to compensate to them that you can be useful, too.

He understood that. Because he felt that odd sense of guilt and insecurity, too.

Stan softly removed your hands from his shoulders. At first, you were expecting him to reject your need of help, but then, his own hands began to envelope yours.

Stan blushed, a bit unused to the physical contact. But he doesn't mind it, and neither do you. The Jewish boy looked at you in the eyes.

The fear, the very same fear he received when he arrived at the Neibolt house consumed him, but he managed to say, "If.. If It got to me.. Will you still remember me?"

You looked at him in the eye. You wiped your tears and snots away, your posture began oozing confidence. "No, because when we'll get out of there, you're still gonna be with us. I promise, _I'll protect you, Stan_."

With warm and confident eyes equal to a thousand burning suns, Stan let your words sink in to his bones.

Then, he decided.

* * *

After getting Mike and Ben along with Stan, you quickly made way for your house. There was something you needed to bring before you and the rest handle the clown.

Making way through the door of your house, you missed the way the three boys looked at you; anxiety, fear and concern.

You didn't know, but your face was pulled into a tight look. A quiet form of anger they haven't seen from you, and no one likes a silent wrath. It was as if your carefree and air-headed personality never even existed in the first place.

Inside your room, you found a familiar figure of a racket. You gingerly took it from the dusty corners of your room before quickly making your way back to your friends. Strangely, with Jane's racket in hand, you felt a tad bit better. It was as if the material knew you were agitated.

Praying silently, you realized you weren't praying to your god. No, by any mean, you prayed to Jane. You didn't knew why but you let it be.

By the time you arrived at the front-yard of your house, you saw Bill with Richie and Eddie. There seem to be an awkward tension around them, so you did the only reasonable thing to do.

"Look at us," You tried to joke despite the heavy circumstances, "All geared up to fight some clown."

Bill appreciated your remark, but his small smile vanished before turning into a serious look, "Are you ready?" He looked at the boys, "Are you_all _ready?"

"Fuck," You heard Richie muttered before he nodded, "I'm ready."

Eddie's adam apple bobbed, before he shakily nodded. Mike geared his bolt gun and offered the gang a confident nod. Ben simply nodded, and you spot Stan giving his own strong look.

The boys turned to you, expecting your answer. You simply answered by passing them and rode your bike. You turned to the boys with an exasperated look.

"If we have time to nod at each other, then I think we have time to kill this fucking clown." You spoke, which prompted them to start mounting their bikes.

And with that, The Loser's Club sets off to the dark house, unknowing of their fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw, i write this chapt as a form of mc losing control. and no, i dont depict it as "cool" or "terrifying". i think a lot of fanfics really glorify the aspect of snapping control of yourself and i dont really like that. its not as amazing as you think it is


	15. Memories in The Sewers (1/2)

Bill really did promised to come better prepared. Upon reaching the familiar dark house, the stuttering boy pulled out the rusty iron gates from its hinges.

He passed the remaining four spear-shaped irons to the rest of the boys, and they all took it. Minus you.

"Don't you want one?" Eddie inquired to you. There was hesitation in him, expecting you to get angry at him for the simple question. Much like what you did to Stan.

However, you shook your head and softly said, "No."

The adrenaline of anger had passed and processed out of you. Now, you could only stare at the Neibolt house with a sense of dread yet determination.

Richie must've recognized how prepared Bill was. Before Bill can offer him the weapon, the trashmouth took it upon himself to grab the stray bottle made of glass right by his foot. Then, he proceeded to smash half of the bottle on the stair's railing. Others looked, startled by the sudden loud noise.

Richie looked at the broken bottle. It was left with the small upper half of it, the rest destroyed. You and the rest judged him for this. Richie ended up throwing it away.

Walking up the stairs of the house, Bill opened the door and it greeted you with the usual creaky sound. This time, Bill brought a flashlight and it shone a path in the dark house.

You turned to Stan, noticing him looking at the house with wary and fear. You pat him in the shoulder and he looked startled by your action. Others were following Bill's lead, albeit a bit slow.

"We'll be alright, Stan," You whispered to him. You proceeded to brought out your hand to him, offering the choice if he wanted to held your hand, "I said it before and I'll said it again; I'll protect you. And everyone else." You managed to add, smiling awkwardly.

The Jewish boy looked a bit less wary, even a small smile managed to pass his lips. He looked at your hand, before hesitantly connecting it with his own. You gave him a reassuring smile, squeezing tight his hand.

And with that, you and the rest entered the house.

Nothing changed. There were still cobwebs and dust skittering in the house. You heard a high-pitched squeaky sound, and found rats running on the grand piano's keys. You shoved your flashlight away.

Bill lead you to basement. Like always, there were spider's webs and the same smell of dust lingering in the air. By the time you had rode down the stairs, you noticed a well --in the middle of the room-- and there was only one window in the room, reminding you it was not nighttime and very much in the early morning.

When you and the rest neared the well, Richie made a joke.

"Hey Eddie, you got a quarter?" He asked, shoving his flashlight down the well. Eddie scoffed and stood next to Bill.

"I don't want to make a wish in that fucking thing."

If it wasn't for the grave situation, you would've let a light chuckle passed you. Seeing Richie and Eddie mess around again was almost endearing to you.

You peered down the well. Your flashlight and the collective teamwork of others didn't help to see what was down there. You'd half-expected a clown to start floating his way and surprising your group, but you figured you didn't want to jinx it.

"Beverly?!" You yelled in the well. The only response was your own echo.

"How are we supposed to get down there?" Mike asked the important question. You thought Bill had at least prepared a rope as he knew this was coming, but that didn't seem to struck his mind. Instead, he managed to found a worn rope behind you and shook the dust off it.

Conveniently, there was a pulling maneuver that the rope can be used for. Now, you had to figure out who will be pulling it.

"Do you see this?" Richie said, pointing to his lanky body, "I'm a beanstalk, I can't move shit!"

"Glad you knew that." You muttered under your breath.

Eddie wasn't even mentioned in the conversation, he was just left out. He seemed to be irritated by this but said nothing.

"Maybe I can do it." Ben suggested. Considering his size, he might've been fit for the job. Except, when you asked him to carry Richie in a bridal style, he failed at keeping his signs of struggle.

"I'll do it," Mike volunteered, "I have a fair share of carrying heavy stuff on the farm."

"A-alright," Bill nodded. However, he seemed to have another plan in mind, "Can you carry (Y/N)?"

Now, you were a bit surprised. But you shrugged, not caring much. Free ride is a good ride.

Mike surprisingly looked flustered by this, "W-why can't I carry Richie?"

Richie smirked, "What, you want to be my Prince Charming? I'll do it."

Eddie shook his head before looking at Mike, "This is why."

"Now, carry me." You said with a grin. You had no other intention beside to fact that you liked to be carried by someone. You remembered when your brother used to carry you on his shoulders, but now he's a jerk and doesn't allow you to do it anymore.

You jumped up on Mike's back, just like a piggyback. Mike's hands held your legs tightly, making sure not to let you go. With the added inches on your height, you can't help but let an amazed sound. You missed the way Mike smiled, amused by your reaction.

"How's the weather up there?" Richie joked, grinning. You stare down at the trashmouth.

"Better than yours."

After the slight moment of chuckles, you get back to work. Mike attached the rope to the maneuver and let it fell down the well after making sure it was tight enough. You heard the heavy rope hit the end of the well, strangely echoing loud.

The first one to go was Bill. Mike tightly gripped the rope, as Bill ascended into the well. You saw him taking a pause in the middle of a stride, before showing his flashlight on an open way in the well. It must have been where It escaped, you concluded.

Eddie was next to go, and you saw him following Bill's lead. After Stan's turn, you were next.

You carefully stood on the edges of the well, as Richie's hand was securely attached to your back. You grab the rope as Mike held the rope's maneuver. Before you ascend to the well, you sent Mike a playful grin.

"Don't let go of me now, Prince Charming." And just like that, you carefully but quickly thread your way down.

Your hands slightly burn with the friction of the rough rope, but you didn't care much. Bill's hand came unto contact with your waist, and he and the rest helped you enter the small hole they resided.

It was way too cramp, but somehow, the four of you managed to fit. You do accidentally squish or elbowed each other. Stan resided in the back, and he opted to park his way to the back to give an extra space. You joined him, and smiled.

"I think this place has a potential for a redesign." You joked and blew away a cobweb to made your joke more effective. Stan only let out an amused huff.

You helped Ben and Richie into the cramp space, making Stan backed up more. Richie shout to Mike just before he joined you and the rest.

"Be careful out there, Mike!" Richie shouted, but you were unsure if he was joking or serious. Either way, you helped him in as his echoes resounded in the well.

You waited for Mike to come down. You saw his face peering in the well and his hand holding the rope, but then, he suddenly let out a pained cry.

Your senses went into panic, thinking you were attacked by It. But then, when you shoved your flashlight up, you saw a familiar maniac, glowering down on your form. Bill and the others joined you quickly and managed to see their bully, Bowers.

It would've infuriate you to see him again, but what strike fear in your heart was that Bower's face was splashed with blood. His eyes was wide and a creepy smile was attached on thin lips.

_Just what in the hell did he done?_

Immediately, fear for Mike was increased tenfold. Now, you had to avoid Bowers _and _that damned clown.

Bowers proceed to snap the rope from the maneuver. Shock overwhelmed you, and Bill tried to grab the rope. It was futile and he was too late. Richie and Eddie let out a protest, as Ben and Stan watched in disbelief.

"MIKE!" You and the others screamed, just as Bower's face disappeared from view. Panic began to seize, and you tried to find a way to get up but without that rope, you can't do anything.

"Why the fuck is Bowers here?!" Richie asked in disbelief, suspense also grabbing unto him. You heard sounds of struggles and Mike's pained grunts. You crawled and stood up on the edges of the wall, your hands gripping the stones of the well around you as you shout.

"FIGHT THAT MOTHERFUCKER, MIKE!"

It was deathly silent for a moment, your shouts only ringing in the well. Then, you heard a sharp sound, like a marble ball hit against a marble floor. You panicked, remembering Mike had carried his bolt pistol. The worst images began feeding unto your brain, until you heard a pained cry that was not from Mike.

You entered the cramp space, feeling conflicted and afraid. Then, suddenly, you heard Mike let out a war cry.

Then, with heavy thud, Bowers fell down the well, his head hitting the rough stones. Bill grabbed you and the others back before the bully can think of grabbing your figures, and the gang quickly peered down the darker parts of the well.

What you can only hear was Bower's disappearing shouts of pain and the muffling thuds that soon stopped.

You looked up, and saw Mike, looking down at you, his chest pumping up and down. You let out a relieved smile.

"MIKE!" Eddie shout, his voice beginning to be scratchy. Mike tried for a smile.

"I'm okay."

Just as Mike was reloading his bolt pistol, you lean up against the wall, the adrenaline in you beginning to wear off. You were tired, and you were sure your hands were bleeding. Eddie noticed your weary expression.

"You okay?" He asked, his earlier trace of hesitation in you now gone. Now, it was just pure concern. You gave the germaphobe a tired smile before nodding your head. He grabbed something from his fanny pack, and you noticed his shaking didn't seem to vibrate the usual sound of his medicine pills. Eddie brought out a tiny water bottle and passed it to you.

"Thanks," You managed to reply before popping the bottle open. The drink strangely tasted better, even though you were in a terrible place. Without noticing, you had already finished the water bottle. You let out relieved breath, "Jesus, didn't knew I was this thirsty."

Eddie shrugged. This time, you genuinely smiled at him. "Thanks, Eddie Spaghetti."

The boy let out an irritated huff, but you spot his tan cheeks slightly reddening. He looked to the side and muttered, "... No problem..."

You chuckled at his reaction. Despite the fact that he hated that nickname, you figured he would let this one pass.

Then, Eddie looked to the back and seemed to realized something. "Shit, where's Stan?"

You looked back, and also noticed the absence of the Jewish boy. Panic began to build in your throat again.

"Stanley?!" You shout into the space. Receiving no reply, you advanced quickly to the outside of the crawling space. Others seemed to have pick you and Eddie's shout of panic, and followed your lead.

However, upon exiting the crawl-pipe, your feet splashed into something wet. You cursed loudly, forgotten to bring your diving booties. So it was true; the Neibolt house is connected to the sewers.

"Shit, greywater.." Eddie complained, yet he joined you.

"Staaan!" Richie shout, his voice becoming hoarse. Now, a familiar setting much like the Barrens greet you, the dirty walls echoing your shouts.

"Stanley!" You shouted. But it was still silent.

"After this, I'm gonna take a long, cold shower." Richie broke the silence, before cursing.

**_".. aaaAAAAAAHHHHH!!.."_**

Immediately, the familiar shout of fear echoed in the halls of the sewers, causing fear to began pumping in your veins.

"Stanley!" You shout, quickly running just like others. "STANLEY!"

Then, you stumbled upon a bronze, metal door. You began to push with all your might, and others immediately helped you.

"STANLEY, I'M COMING!" You screamed just as the crack of the door rusted heavily against the ground, before the metal door swung open with full force. You and the others tumbled against each other, before quickly regaining balance.

"STAN!" Bill shouted, but it only echoed. Then, Eddie noticed a stray flashlight on the floor and immediately went to grab it. You and the others followed his lead. The flashlight shone before an unsightly scene before you, just as others gasped in horror.

"What the fuck?!" Richie yelled in disbelief.

Stan, was now laid on the floor, his body shaking. An unsightly creature from Hell was openly mauling his face, with extended, razor-sharp teeth that were biting Stan's face. It looked at your group in shock, its beady eyes wide open.

Immediately, the fear in your veins were replaced with anger. White clouded your eyes, as the only emotion you felt at the moment was wrath. Your very being and heart screamed in hate, demanding and begging you; to hit the hellish creature, to _kill _it.And you obeyed.

**"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HIM!" **You screamed, your voice hoarse. The badminton racket in your hand --now remembered-- swung the creature on its flesh-like teeth. You swung with all your might, anger and hate fueling your action.

The creature let out an inhuman moan of pain, quickly scurrying away from you and Stan. Its flesh-teeth bled, but it wasn't from Stan's. It was your own doing.

The creature --no doubt, it was It-- joined the dark, groaning and moaning in pain from your attack. It joined the dark, but you can still see It, looking at you. If your vision weren't painted white with anger, you would've thought you saw fear in the minuscule, beady eyes. And just like that, It disappeared.

The sadistic side of you yowl in pleasure, demanding more of it. However, you ignored it, immediately tending to Stan.

"Stan! Stanley!" You shout, tears brimming your eyes. You cradled him in your arms, holding him tight. Immediately, he gasped and spluttered, sat up before screaming and sobs of fear consumed him.

"YOU LEFT ME!" He shout, referring to all of you, "YOU MADE ME GO INTO NEIBOLT! YOU'RE NOT MY FRIEND!"

Immediately, others ran to him and tried to calm him down, words of apology and regret spilling from their mouth. Your tears burned on your cheeks, yet you tried to calm Stan down.

"Stanley! Stan!" You hugged him by the shoulder, joining his sobs of pain, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

"We will never leave you!" Eddie said, also hugging Stan by his left arm. A few tears passed his eyes, "I'm sorry..!"

The Jewish boy calmed down, letting past a few ragged breaths. His red face began to turn normal, as he wiped his tears.

"We won't ever leave you," you whispered, your own voice turning scratchy from the screaming you had, "And we'll make sure Neibolt'll be burned down."

Stan didn't reply, only managing a few sniff. He was starting to calm down, yet the bite marks on his face didn't look good. So you did the rational thing to do; to cut a part of your outfit. Thankfully, you had a small scissor.

You detached yourself from Stan before grabbing the scissor. You unhinged it's jaw before settling on the edge of your shirt. It let out a quiet snipping sound that echoed in the sewers.

"What are you doing?" Richie asked, confused. You shrugged, not having the energy to reply. After satisfied with the little cloth, you turned back to Stan and wiped some of the red ink on his face away. He flinched and hissed in pain, before settling down. Your cloth wasn't a good blood-wiper but it was better than nothing.

You reminded yourself to leave the bite marks alone, only wiping the stray line of blood away from the bite marks. You smiled to yourself, as Stan looked unsure.

"Do I look okay?" He asked, half-joking and half-smiling. Richie and you chuckled.

"Yeah, you look okay." You agreed.

You wiped your tears away, as Ben looked around.

"Wait, where's Bill?" The boy asked, confused. Your group looked at each other, before searching for Bill in the dark.

"Bill?!" Eddie called, his voice echoing. He seemed to be focused on an alley in one of the sewers.

"BILL!" Eddie shouted, more loud. He immediately started running to the alley, causing your group to spur into action.

You followed Eddie's lead, and if it weren't for the loud splashes around you, you could've heard fast footsteps in the alley.

"Bill!" Stan called. By now, Eddie had lost lead of the stuttering boy, making your group explore other dark parts of the sewer. Your heart beats against your chest erratically, as if it was having its own panic attack. You breathe in and out quietly, trying to calm yourself down.

"Bill!" Eddie called again. There was a rusty door as it lead you to another part of the sewer. Loud sounds of water greeted you, as Eddie fell down unto the greywater.

"C'mon, get outta there, dude!" Richie said with disgust. However, Eddie didn't seem to care about the filthy water anymore, desperately trying to find his flashlight.

"Where's my fucking flashlight?!" The germaphobe demanded to himself, desperately and quickly feeling his way in the water.

"Eddie--" You tried to spoke, but then Eddie let out a terrified scream.

With the source of other's flashlights, you saw heads upon heads --_human _heads-- started emerge from the surface. You and the others screamed in fear, as the heads lazily floated.

"LET'S GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!" You screamed, helping Eddie out of the water, as Ben and Mike helped Stan walked.

Adrenaline pumped in your veins again, as you and the others blindly ran. To where, you don't even know. Suddenly, you stumbled upon an exit. But it wasn't leading to the outside world.

There were piles, upon piles of unknown things before you, giving it a vibe of a junkyard to you. However, you settled upon a sight that made you both relieved and afraid.

"BEV!" You yelled, as you showed your flashlight up. You couldn't even believe your own eyes. The redhead was floating in midair, as if her body was being held up by strings, like a puppet.

"H-how is she in the air?" Eddie inquired, also in disbelief. Then, his flashlight strayed upper, and his own breath caught in his throat, "G-guys... Are those..?"

Immediately, you and the rest followed his direction. You gasped, and it rang in the dark sewer.

There were a stream of bodies --also floating much like Beverly, except they looked as if they were laid on bed--, floating in a circle under the strain flash of the sun outside.

"The missing kids.." Stan spoke, his voice quivering. "Floating.."

Immediately, you snapped yourself out of you trance, attention darted back to Beverly. You needed to get to her, or she'll...

"C'mon, help me up!" You ordered to Mike, pocketing your flashlight. With your order, the boys also snapped out of their trance and tried to search for any leverage that can help you.

Ben found a small kid-chair, and Mike stood on it. Richie and Stan helped you get on Mike's grip, as the black boy let you step on his shoulder.

You managed to grip Beverly's legs, and hung tight to it. It was as if gravity were strongly pulling on her body, but you fought your own weariness. Your muscles burned at the unusual amount of running and screaming you had.

Finally, Beverly was in a range that you can get rid of the chair. After doing so, you brought her down more, until her feet planted firmly on earth.

You let out a shocked breath. Instead of her blue iris, her eyes were fully white, and she looked as if she was in a trance.

"Beverly!" You called, shaking her vigorously, "Bev, wake up!"

Her head fell down, her curly hair blocking you from seeing her face. From the umpteenth time, tears began to leak from your eyes.

"WHAT'S WRONG WITH HER?!" You demanded to others, and shook Beverly again, a sob escaping your lips, "BEV!"

Sobs began wrecking havoc on your chest, and you hugged her tight. Her body was still motionless.

An idea pitched itself to you. You brought Beverly's face up, and stared into her opaque eyes.

The story of Sleeping Beauty began to ran down your brain. More specifically, the Disney movie. You had watched the 30 year-old movie and had initially scoff at the thought of a true love's kiss. But now, it seemed to made you realized something.

Unhesitatingly, you connected your lips to Beverly's red ones. Others gasped and Richie 'woah!'ed at your action, but you didn't care. A kiss in turn for Beverly's life is better than nothing.

You broke the kiss, letting out a breath you had been holding. Your grip on Beverly was tight.

For a scary second, you thought you had failed. But then, Beverly gasped, her white eyes returning to be the familiar sky-blue again. It was as if she had been broken out of a dream.

You smiled, tears of happiness began running down your cheeks. Beverly looked at you in disbelief. But she didn't tore away from your grip.

"BEVERLY!" You openly cried and pulled her into a hug, sobbing on her shoulder. You drew back, your smile widening to show your teeth.

Beverly, however, didn't return your smile. Her expression was still in shock as she stared at you, her freckled cheeks slightly red, "Why.. Why did you..?"

"I gotta save you," You blurted out, "You're not gonna die before me, Bev. Not ever."

Then, the redhead bashfully smiled. "(Y/N)--"

"Jesus, fuck!" Richie let out, but a relieved smile was upon his face. He grabbed you and Beverly, pulling you two into a hug. You heard Mike chuckled.

And just like that, the seven Loser's pulled into a group hug. You saw Stan shyly holding Ben's figure, the heart-warming sight making you smile.

Everyone simultaneously broke away, grinning and wiping away their tears. Beverly counted the rest of you and frowned.

"Where's Bill?" She asked. Then, you remembered your pending quest.

You immediately searched around the junkyard, before your group decided to run toward the left direction. Your feet hit noisily against the wet excrements in the ground before you and the rest stumbled upon Bill.

You nearly shouted his name before the most unbelievable sight presented itself before you.

It was Georgie. He was in a long-sleeved shirt but his arm.. His right arm was lost, as if it was cut from his body. He held a yellow paperboat in his left hand, and he and Bill were engaged in a conversation.

You and the others exchanged shocked and disbelief looks.

_"I wanna go home..!" _Georgie spoke, making you remember. How long has it been since you've last heard the young boy's voice? His pleading voice nearly made you cry again, but you held it in.

Bill was trying his best to held his tears, as Georgie spoke again, his voice still pleading, "I've missed you! I missed Mom and Dad!"

Bill replied, but his tone was heartbroken, "I've wanted more than anything for you to be home..! Mom.. and--and Dad.."

Bill stepped closer to Georgie, "I've missed you so much.."

Georgie stared into Bill's face, conveying every possible emotions Bill had, "I love you, Billy."

"I love you, too." Bill spoke without hesitation. You swallowed, as silent tears pricked your eyes.

However, Bill seemed to realize something. Something that the others knew, despite his own wish that it wasn't true. Quickly, Bill equipped Mike's bolt pistol, aiming it at 'Georgie''s forehead. The little boy whimpered in fear over Bill's sudden action.

Any trace of sadness disappeared from Bill's face, only remaining somberness and acceptance, "But you're not Georgie!"

Quickly, without a second to spare, Bill pressed the trigger. Immediately, the bolt pistol's load punctured itself unto Georgie's forehead, showing a tiny dot upon the little boy's forehead.

'Georgie' fell down, face now frozen. He fell into the ground as you let out a breath.

You knew it wasn't Georgie. An 8 year-old boy couldn't possibly survive with that big wound under a minute.

For a scary minute, you thought that was the true Georgie, as his body didn't transform immediately into the wretched clown you knew.

But then, his body began to shook. It let out an inhuman gargles of groans, and 'Georgie' screamed unto the dark sewer. You spot his tiny shoes began sprouting red fur-balls. Then, its outfit changed from a normal sleepy-wear unto a grey outfit of a clown.

Then, his limbs began to grew and extend in size. Then, It automatically stood up, shoulders and head hunched. It rose its head, as its eyes began to slowly revert back before its place.

"BILL! KILL IT!" Eddie shouted, and others joined his chants. Bill fumbled with the gun, and you heard Mike muttered something.

".. it's not loaded.."

However, as the clown began to creepily smile, Bill immediately took hold of the pistol and aimed it again at its forehead. Bill pulled the trigger again, and it seemed to affect the clown.

From its white makeup, its face suddenly started disintegrating from where Bill shot It, before it shook crazily again.

"BILL!" Eddie shouted in fear, before the clown fully stood up again. You gripped your badminton racket tightly, as adrenaline began fusing with your nerves again.

Others broke apart, as the clown attacked Bill. The stuttering boy went down, the bolt pistol the only form of self-defense before the clown can eat his face. Bill aimed the bolt pistol elsewhere, just as Beverly tried to attack the clown.

"BEVERLY, NO!" Richie shout, as the clown blocked her attack. It let out an inhuman growl, and Mike tried to distract It. However, the farm boy was pushed aside and thrown into the wall, the impact harsh.

Immediately, you jumped on the clown's back with your badminton racket, trying to stop It from mauling your friends.

Ben and Stan tried to help you, grabbing It's long arms. However, the clown retaliated by spinning you and the boys in a circle with It, making you dizzy. You stayed strong, fighting back the urge to threw up.

Stan and Ben were pushed aside much like Mike, and you felt a sharp hand grabbed you. You panicked, before the last thing you felt was pain as you were thrown over by the clown.

You groaned in pain, your back and muscles burning. Your friends-- minus Bill-- immediately grabbed unto your body, pulling you close. Your vision were hazy before you shook it off.

"Bill!" You yelled, as you saw the clown holding Bill hostage. Its arms were tightly holding Bill's head, rendering him immobile.

"Let him go!" Beverly shakily demanded to the demon clown. It shook its head feverishly.

"No!" It spoke, voice raspy and high, "I'll take him, and I'll take _aaaall _of you! I'll feast on your flesh as I feed on your fear.. _Ooorr_.. I will take him --only him!--, and I will have my lost rest and you will all live to grow and thrive and lead happy lives, until old age takes you back to the weed."

Was It trying to bargain you? You only looked in disbelief.

"Leave!" Bill croaked from It's tight grip, "I'm the one who dragged you guys into this.. I'm so s-s-s--"

"S-s-sorry?" It taunted the boy before slightly laughing.

"Go!" Bill told the rest of you strongly, as the clown laughed at his pity voice.

You stared at your friends. They all looked so tired and unmotivated. Your voice trembled, "Guys, we can't leave him!"

They didn't answer, only giving sad looks to Bill. Richie, however, stepped aside from Eddie.

"I told you, Bill," he started with a quiet voice, standing next to you, "I _fucking _told you. I don't wanna die. It's your fault."

You were at disbelief over Richie's words, but he continued, his voice rising along the way, "You punched me in the face, you made me walk through shitty water, took us to a fucking crackhead house!"

You were unsure where Richie was going with this, until he took a stray bat from the trash pile. His voice was now deathly even, "And now? I'm gonna have to kill this fucking clown."

Within 0.1 second, you gripped your badminton racket, just as It began to threw Bill away.

"**WELCOME TO THE LOSER'S CLUB, ASSHOLE!**" Richie shouted to the clown, just as It inhumanly screamed. You managed to join Richie, your double combo of attack nearly stunning the clown. His bat hit the clown's face while your racket hit It in the neck.

You didn't have time to compliment each other, as Mike joined the fray. He tried to hit the clown, but It stopped him by making upon ashen hands came out of its oral. The hands stopped Mike's attack, and you realized this was Mike's fear: his parents' burning hands.

Stan managed to grab a stray spear on the ground and hit the dark hands from preying on Mike's weapon. It turned to him, Its face now morphed into the familiar creature you saw with Stan.

That had to be the painting lady Stan had talked about, and his fear.

Richie strike another blow to Its back head as Its face transformed, the bat's harsh impact letting out an echoing _thud! _sound. Now, you were convinced the bat was made of metal.

The clown settled Its sight again on Stan, before quickly running to the boy. Mike unhesitatingly attacked It again, but the clown threw him unto the ground.

Pincers much like crabs began to appear on Its arm. It frenziedly stomped the ground with its pincers, as Mike quickly rolled away from the pincers.

You tried to think of a way to help the boy, but Ben ran toward It before stabbing the clown with his spear. It let out a bloodcurdling scream, and you saw blood escaping Its body.

But the blood floated, no gravity on the red liquid. Ben tried to push away the weight of the clown, as it transformed Its face again.

A rotten head took place, and white bandages started wrapping around Ben's head. A mummy, you realized, was his fear.

Bill grabbed a stray chain he found on the ground and aggressively attacked the clown. The chain hit on the clown's skeleton loudly, causing It to tumble down on its knees.

You formed a circle on it, as Bill attacked It again. Richie hit the clown in the face again, and it coughed madly.

It turned to you, and Its face morphed into your family members; your brother, your sister, your mother and father, all mixed together into a horrific mess of six eyeballs and a rotting mouth with a clown outfit.

Anger and disgust entered you again, and you unhesitatingly took a swing upon Its back neck. Your throat were beginning to hurt, but you still screamed at It, "STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY FAMILY!"

It began to retch loudly, saliva dripping from Its mouth. Then, Its head snapped to Eddie, who was mortified. Its face began to transform into a _leper_, like Eddie's fear.

Black content began to exit Its mouth, as it basically threw up on Eddie. The gross vomit covered the boy's head and you cringed.

Eddie frantically stood up and threw the vomit out of his mouth, as he settled on It again.

"**I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU!**" Eddie screamed, before kicking the clown in the face. You admired Eddie for his own bravery, but your focus went unto It again.

It began to shook again, before looking up. The clown transformed its head again, and your eyes widened at the familiar man.

It was Beverly's father, with a creepy grin upon his face as he stared into Beverly.

"_Hey, Bevvie,_" The man spoke, his voice oily, "Are you still my little--"

Beverly let out a war cry, as she pierced her spear unto the man's mouth. Goosebumps ran over you. Whatever Beverly had to gone through with that man must have been horrific.

The man let out grunts of pain, its eyes wide and mouth hung open. Then, quickly spreading upon its face, the face of Beverly's father disappeared and was replaced with the usual white make-up of a clown.

Beverly quickly joined the gang back, warily eyeing her product of doing.

The clown spewed out the spear, before looking at all of you in disbelief.

You were tired. Your body ached and screamed, you felt like you could pass out, but you stayed strong. Fear was no longer controlling your nerves, only the feeling of absolute hostile and willingness entering you.

If you had to fight this fucking clown if it meant to save everybody else, you would do it.

It fell to the ground on its ass, fear and disbelief coating its face. Your group marched forward, and you can feel their own willingness to _also _fight the monstrous clown.

The clown let out a strange gargles of noises, but you knew It was scared. Its back hit against a dark well, but you didn't knew where it lead to. You only focused on the creature.

You were the first one to spoke, staring at It as if it was the lowest vermin to ever exist on earth, "I know why you didn't kill Beverly. Because she wasn't afraid."

It let out a pathetic whimper as you continued, "And we're not, either. Not anymore. Now _you're _the one who's afraid. Because you're gonna starve and you're gonna rot in this forsaken place..!"

Hate consumed your speech for a moment, and you unclenched your teeth. It proceeded to do a somersault. You thought It was going into an another attack, but the creature was hanging by the the edges of the well, muttering something you didn't catch.

You took into a stance, preparing to attack the clown again. However, its steady grip on the edges of the large well loosened, causing Its fingers to desperately grab unto the edges.

You peered down, ready to attack. The creature's face was cracking, unveiling as pieces of its white skin and blood began to float in the air.

"_Fear_." This time, you heard It clearly, and it zoomed unto the unknown abyss after Its last word.

You heard the others exchanged a relieved exhales.

You decided to try lighten the heavy air, "I know what I'm doing for my summer essay."

You glanced at other's faces, and figured it wasn't a good time for jokes, seeing as it was after your battle.

"Guys," Eddie let out a breath of disbelief, his eyes staring up, "Guys, the missing kids are coming down."

You turned to look, unbelieving of what you heard. But it was true. The floating kids were coming down, but you figured it would have taken them a long time to arrive back on earth.

You swallowed, feeling waves of guilt entering you again. Perhaps, if you were faster, you could've saved them.

However, you didn't notice Bill had tore himself away from the group, his attention caught on something more precious.

In the dirty wheels of a cart, Bill picked up a yellow raincoat, sized to fit a small child. Richie noticed this, and Mike too. Soon, you and the rest joined them.

There was Georgie's name written on the back of the coat, confirming Bill's greatest nightmare. He hugged the raincoat, his sobs escaping in the sewers.

Immediately, you hugged Bill in the back, causing others to also form a group hug. You and the others didn't let go as Bill's sobs increased in volume.

A closure to Georgie was something Bill had longed for, but he didn't want it to be like this. _Especially _not like this. Not ever. The harsh truth that Georgie was no longer with him --his little brother, who always stuck to his side since birth-- left a scar upon Bill's heart.

* * *

"I-I CAN'T BREATHE!"

"Eds, take a deep breathe, you'll live through this!"

By now, Eddie had gone into panic. Your group were on your way to get out of the sewer, but the dark maze and greywater seemed unending, making your group panic.

"I can't remember the sewer system.." Ben muttered in fear, his breath unknowingly picking up in speed.

Your group had gone into full panic. Beverly tried to calm them down, but her words didn't seem to get past them. Stan muttered about how he wanted to get out, as Ben rapidly talked to Bill in panic.

Immediately, you knew what to do. It was dumb, but it was better than nothing. You needed a distraction and an outlet, no matter how embarrassing the act is.

And so, you hummed to the beginning tune of _Come and Get Your Love _by RedBone.

Once you hit the first word, you sang loudly and freely danced in the sewer, "_Heeeyy_!"

Others stared at you, in surprise over the sudden singing. This was probably the most ridiculous thing you'll ever do: singing and dancing in a sewers full of rats and dead bodies.

"_What's the matter with your heads, yeah_?" And at that point, you forgot the lyric and began to mumble nonsense, still leisurely dancing.

"W-what are you doing?" Bill asked, incredulous over your sudden actions. You shrugged as you danced.

"Dance off, bro!" You said with a grin, before taking a pause to sing the song and continuing your parade, "C'mon! I'll bet your white joints can't even crack a move, boy!"

You brought your hand to Bill, inviting him in both a challenge and for the fun of it. He cracked a big smile before taking your hand.

"_Come and get your looove_!" You basically yelled in the sewers, taking the lead in the dancing. You turned to the others, their faces stricken with mild curiosity and shock.

"Pair up, folks! You don't wanna be lonely on a prom night!" You said to them before laughing as Bill twirled you gently.

And through the edge of your vision, you saw Richie and Eddie paired up, the trashmouth grinning cockily as Eddie could only gave him an embarrassed glare. Yet, you caught a smile peeked from the germaphobe when Richie swayed with him.

Mike paired with Ben, and the two seemed shy about it. Until Ben broke his robot-dance, Mike actually laughed for the first time. The farm boy followed Ben's lead, but he looked comparably awkward next to Ben's vigorous comical moves.

You spot Stan giving his hand to Beverly shyly, before the redhead basically dipped him. Stan laughed, and the two find the rhythm that suited each other.

Along the way, only happy laughs and amused burst of laughing from Richie followed you. You occasionally switched partners, as the others joined your singing.

This was absolutely ridiculous. After fighting a demon clown and defeated it, you danced in the dark sewers, just because you can. It was, again, ridiculous. But then again, you and the rest were 13. You were _supposed _to be ridiculous. And this fun dance just proved that you really needed this.

Just a fun activity to do, away from something so serious and scary. You loved it, and you were sure others did, too.

* * *

September rolled itself in.

The rest of August was no longer quiet. Instead, it was filled with visits from your friends, and you couldn't be happier. So entering September, it won't feel so lonely anymore.

However, Beverly had announced that there would be a group meeting by the river's where your previous rock-war happened. It brought you great nostalgia, despite it had happened two months ago.

"It's about a vision I saw when I was passed out," Beverly started. She was sitted on a log, as the rest of you sat in circle around her. "I can only remember some parts but.."

Beverly exhaled, "I thought I was dead. That's what it felt like. I saw us-- back together-- but something was different. We were older; our parents' ages."

You tried to imagine yourself. 30 years later, all wrinkly and grown-up. You couldn't really see it.

"What were we doing there?" You inquired.

Beverly's face turned into a troubled one, "I just remember how we felt. I was scared in it, and I don't think I can ever forget that.."

Your eyes went downcast, as a troubled expression entered you. You and your group, 30 years later, reunited and in their 40's? But you looked at your friends, and all you can see was their youthful looks.

Bill suddenly stood up, alerting you.

"Swear it," he spoke. You saw a broken piece of a glass in Bill's hand, "S-s-swear.. that if _It _isn't dead-- if It ever comes back-- we'll come back too."

During the last two and a half months, you and your friends never talked about the incident in the Neibolt house. But Bill was very honest, causing you to appreciate him for it.

You stood up, ready for his order. Beverly followed your lead, and just like that, the rest of the boys stood up.

Bill proceeded to cut a straight line on his palm, causing him to wince. But he withstand the pain, and moved on to Richie, who was next to him.

Richie hissed in pain, shaking his hand as if trying to rid of the pain. You watched the different reactions of your friends, and gave a comforting pat to Beverly when Bill went to her.

You saw her bit her lip, before it was done. Bill moved to you, glass ready to take action. You nodded at him, presenting your right palm.

The cool glass slid into your palm, causing you to suck a breath. The burning sensation attacked your nerves as your blood began to escape from it's (S/C) prison.

And so, you and Bill held hands, his injured palm making contact with your left hand. You can feel the mixture of his warm hand and his cold blood leaking from the tips of your fingers.

You held Beverly's left hand, her cutted palm making contact with your injured one. It slightly hurt, before it all ebbed away.

And then, one by one, your friends began to held hands, their blood occasionally connecting with their own.

You basked in the moment of silence, as the oath you made settled into your bones. Then, it happened too quickly as you let go of each other's hands.

"I gotta go," Stan quietly spoke, breaking the silent air. He settled his gaze on Bill, "I hate you."

Bill looked crestfallen by Stan's confession. However, you and Eddie tried to held in your laughs until Stan broke with a big grin.

Bill smiled, looking at his friends as if they were his very sun. "Let's go home."

And just like that, The Loser's Club headed home together.

An oath to keep the town of Derry safe, with a group of young teens. They still didn't knew, but the Loser's were meant for something great, something big.

Time will reveal it all. After all, they always do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lit rally crying luv...
> 
> anyways, this is the end of the movie! But not for the book, my dear readers ;) i will be writing seven different endings for each losers! and a liiiitle sneak peak at the sequel ;)))))))))))))))))
> 
> and with that, await my future chapters and adios, my readers!


	16. SLOT 1: BILL DENBROUGH

You heaved an exhale.

Standing before Denbrough house brought out the bad and good memories you spent in the summer. Still, you willed yourself to knock at the door.

You instantly smiled seeing Bill. He was in a grey shirt, with brown pants. His red-colored quiff were still hanging low on his head.

"Hey," he greeted you with a smile. "You g-got the equipments?"

You brought out your hands, each carrying a plastic bag. You grinned, "Can count me on it."

Remember Alan? Ah, Alan was a good boy. Right after the gang were done swimming in the quarry, Bill kept Alan as a pet. But he didn't enough equipments to care the turtle properly.

So you, being the pushy and nice person you were, bought the necessary equipments for the boy. You still cherished the way he looked embarrassed when you told him about it.

Bill quickly exit the door to his house and lead you the way to the garage. Its door was still chipped with white paint. He opened it, causing sunlight to enter the dark atmosphere.

"H-here you go," Bill said, patting a table near a cage. You put the plastic bags there, checking the garage.

It was still the same when you last visited it. Albeit, clown-less and more bright.

"My h-hamster, Peanut always looks a bit l-lonely. So it might be better t-to let Alan's tank right next to her." Bill said, as he ruffled through the boxes in the corners. 

You 'aaw'ed slightly at the hamster. She was small, with brown, white and yellow fur. Her round, black eyes stared back into you. You stick your finger through the cage and Peanut took hold of your finger, tiny paws against your giant one.

"D-don't get attached to her," Bill teased, as he put a medium-sized tank right next to the cage. "She's a bit fussy."

"Too late for that, Big Bill," you teased back, cooing and playing with the hamster. Bill shook his head. He ran up the stairs leading to his house.

"Stay here," he instructed, before disappearing into upstairs. You shrugged. There's not much else to go.

"I guess it's you and me now," you humored the hamster with a smile, knowing she won't understand you.

Bill came back, albeit he walked slowly. After his hands were in clear view, you were surprised to see a bowl. After the boy came closer, you gave Bill a judgmental look.

"What?" He asked defensively.

"Seriously? You put Alan in a bowl?" You deadpanned. The turtle was leisurely swimming around, green legs wiggling.

Bill brought his hands up in defense, "H-hey, be grateful now that we have t-the right equipment."

You rolled your eyes, gently picking up Alan. Thankfully, Bill already brought a bottle to fill the tank.

You planted the grass decorations and rocks in the tank. You slightly giggled, seeing Bill had carved a little miniature house for Alan. It had carvings on it, with the word 'A' inside a heart shape.

"Very fancy," you teased the boy, putting it down in the tank. Bill smiled.

"Alan can at least a-afford some luxury," Bill joked.

Despite the light-hearted atmosphere, there was something you've been dying to ask the boy next to you.

Occasionally, you would stare at Bill as you worked. You wondered if anyone had ever asked him out, with his good looks on the table. But you knew Bill was more than an attractive vessel, he also feels emotion.

"W-what is it?" Suddenly, Bill seemed to notice your stare, making you embarrassed. You awkwardly chuckled, trying to fight off the heat from your face.

"Ah, it's nothing. Sorry for staring."

And so, the light air was now heavy. But it wasn't a depressing heavy; it was more like the both of you wanted to ask a question to advance the conversation, but your awkwardness seemed to tied your tongues.

Ever since the incident of It, you started to realize your blooming feeling for Bill. You remembered the time in the quarry, and the time when he first befriended you. It all made your heart flutter, the very memories putting butterflies in your stomach.

You never really thought of it but then, at the very moment, you realized: you have a crush on Bill Denbrough.

You saw Bill's adam apple bobbed. You also swallowed, wetting your dry mouth for what you're about to say.

"S-so--"

"Hey Bill--"

You both stopped, realizing you two had wanted to say something but the other thwarted it. You laughed as Bill smiled endearingly.

"You go first," You offered to Bill. However, he shook his head.

"No, no, y-y-you go first."

You gave the boy a playful glare, "We are _not _gonna fight over this. Now, you first."

Bill sighed, before he swallowed again. Whatever he's gonna ask, he seemed nervous about it. "S-so, um... I know we've known each other for, like, seven months, (Y/N). And I, uh.."

You noticed his cheeks were red and Bill looked as if he was about to pass out. However, he stood strong. "We can get past this if you don't feel the same, but.. I like you. M-more than a friend. And I--"

You cut him off, surprised by his own confession. "Bill?"

He looked up to you, and he seemed to be prepared for your response. "Yeah?"

"I was about to say the same thing," You admitted. Your hands played with each other, "I.. I like you too, Bill. More than a friend, for sure."

You looked to him, ignoring the burning on your cheeks. Despite your calm exterior, you were shooting fireworks inside your heart.

Bill _freaking _Denbrough returns your feelings. And you were over the moon for this dream-come-true.

Bill stepped forward, his hands raised up. You wonder where he was going with this.

"May I..?" He asked, hands inching and flinching away from the crook of your neck. You nodded, ecstatic for his next move.

His hand nestled unto the crook of your neck, as his other hand held your waist. Butterflies began forming itself in your stomach, as Bill dipped his face forward.

You slightly angled your head elsewhere, trying to not break the spell you and Bill was under. And just like that, his lips captured yours.

Bill's lips was soft. Of course, given the fact that his lips always looked like pillows, you weren't surprised. You returned the kiss without hesitation.

Soon, your oxygen were running out so you broke the kiss. Bill's chest noticeably rose up and down before he calmed down. 

"Wow," You said, breathlessly. This was better than you expected, even in your wildest dream.

"Was I okay?" Bill hesitantly asked, his grip on your neck and waist loosening. You grinned, keeping his hand intact to your waist.

"If 'Okay' counts as 'Amazing', I'll take it." You smoothly replied. Bill chuckled, yet his blush was still intact.

It was a comforting silence, as you both stared into each other. You let go of Bill's hand, his hand slowly letting go of your wrist.

"Oh s-s-shit," Bill suddenly cursed, his attention going back to the turtle you were supposed to help. You slightly panicked, seeing as your project was still half-done.

You joined Bill to construct the aquarium again, chuckling at your clumsiness. You looked at Alan, who stopped swimming. He was staring at you with intent eyes, before he blinked and went back into wiggling in the bowl.

You chuckled to yourself over the turtle's blatant action.

You looked at the tiny house Bill made for the turtle, before an idea happened upon you.

"Hey Bill," you called to the boy. He perked up again, "What knife did you use to carve Alan's initial?"

"I didn't use a knife," Bill spoke, going back to the aquarium, "I used a b-box-cutter."

"Where is it?" You asked. Bill seemed to be curious by your intention. He pointed to one of the dark shelves under the stairs.

"It's in the t-t-third box in third row. Yellow-colored."

You quickly took his remark, and checked the shelves. Indeed, when you checked the box, a yellow box-cutter reside among other clutters of things.

You snatched it before joining Bill back. You unsheathed the box-cutter, with it making a loud gargling sound. You took Alan's tiny house and turned to the back, away from where Alan's initial was carved at the front.

"W-what are you doing?" Bill inquired, eyebrows raised. You didn't answer, only bringing the box-cutter closer to the back of the home.

The box-cutter easily cut through the wood's bark, as you carved something permanent on it.

After finishing quickly, you grinned at your handiwork and sheathed the box-cutter safely. Bill seemed curious by this.

"What did you do?"

You showed what you carved, and Bill's eyes slightly widened before he blushed again.

_ 'B + (Y/I)'_

It was Bill's and your first initials on the house, and the sight made Bill's stomach overthrown with butterflies.

"Call me sappy," You said, shyly smiling, "But I like it. What do you think?"

Bill smiled, before gently taking the tiny house from you. He looked at the initials, the love-sick feeling began rushing into him again.

"I like it, too." Bill declared, smiling. You giggled, appreciating his honest remark.

Meanwhile, Alan the Turtle watched the two love-sick fools engaged in a conversation. For a second, its stoic face split into a goofy smile. Then, the turtle dived back into the shallow water.

* * *


	17. SLOT 2: BEVERLY MARSH

It was 1989, September 11th.

For any day, it was a normal day much like any others. But for you, today was a bit special. More special than any other days.

You waited anxiously outside the ice-cream shop you and Eddie had visited, but your company wasn't Eddie. No, it was a certain girl with winter-fire hair.

Some people passed you, but you still can't find her. You thought she was fashionably late-- from doing what, you don't even know. But the thought of the girl you like, preparing to look her best _for you_, your heart squeezed and butterflies erupted in your heart and stomach.

Suddenly, her presence appeared before you, and under the summer sun, you were breathless again.

Beverly was smiling, and for a moment, she looked as if she knew you were smitten for her. She wore a yellow dress with short sleeves, and there were pink flowers and green outlines embroidered on the top and waist part of the dress.

Now in the presence of such beauty, you felt a bit under-dressed. Perhaps, if you listened to your sister's advice to wore more prettier outfit, you could've impressed Beverly.

Yes, you. (Y/N) (L/N)/Faux, who's a girl and likes another girl. And that girl was no other than Beverly Marsh.

You first started to realize your feelings for the redhead when you kissed her, back in the sewers. Then, from then on, you started to realize.

When you watched back _Sleeping Beauty _yesterday, it all clicked into place.

When you first saw the movie, you were ten. And despite how _Disney _wanted to show Aurora's magical world, you can only feel jealousy. And it all stemmed from Prince Phillip.

Of course, any other girl would swoon for the cartoon man, but you didn't. You can only see him in such low-light; he was dull, he looked just the same much like other princes _Disney _had made, he was plain-- you could go on forever.

Three years ago, when you saw the prince kissed Aurora's sleeping state, you could only feel jealousy. But not to Aurora; you were jealous of Prince Phillip.

Now, three years later, you could only chuckle. Who knew, even your young-self was so gay?

"Hey, Beverly," You greeted her once she reached you, your voice slightly airy, "You look beautiful. Like, _really _beautiful."

Beverly slightly giggled at your remark, as you swallowed. You swore your heart were about to jump out of its cage. Were friends supposed to compliment each other on a regular basis? But you felt like you were on a date with her, and the fact that you just brought her to the ice-cream shop for no reason strengthened your embarrassment.

"You look beautiful, too," Beverly complimented you back, softly smiling. You took her word for it, too shy to deny her free compliment.

"Come on," you gestured to the ice-cream's shop, "Let's go in."

You pushed the door open, and were greeted with cold rush of air. Pink booths and blue wallpapers danced in your peripheral vision, as the door you opened let out a dull sound of creaking. You glanced to the side, seeing your own reflection on the hanged mirrors on the wall.

"Welcome to-- Oh, (Y/N)!" You perked up seeing a familiar figure. You thought you'll be seeing the usual face of Mr. Holmes, as the old man had always been the first person to greet you and others. But today, something seemed to change.

Your very own big brother, (B/N), wore a yellow hat with the initials of the store, _Holmes' Hippie Ice-Cream_, written on the front. It was surprising yet a bit hilarious to see your brother working. He was always off-and-on and never really talked about his personal life, so you didn't expect to see him here.

"(B/N)?" You inquired, confused as you and Beverly neared the counter where the ice-creams were displayed, "What are you doing in Mr. Holmes' shop? I thought you said you want a break."

(B/N) shrugged, as if forgetting his own words. He took a large, metal scooper and turned back to you, "Just felt like making a few bucks. Don't tell anyone."

You felt like he was lying, but shook it off. It's none of your business, anyways. You ordered your ice-cream and nearly forgot Beverly as she ordered hers: a chocolate-chip cookie dough ice-cream.

Your brother scooped up the ice-creams you ordered into a cone, and passed it to you two. He threw the scooper into a small container filled with murky water, probably to rid the ice-cream liquids. You gave the appropriate amount of money to him.

"Well, thanks," You said to him, "Give Mr. Holmes' my word."

(B/N) gave you a leisure wave.

And just like that, you exited the store. Beverly, however, seemed more interested on your brother.

"So," Beverly started. The two of you were now walking on the streets of Derry, enjoying your treats, "Who's that guy? He looks too old to be your boyfriend."

You nearly choked on your ice-cream, as Beverly peacefully ate hers. You stared at her, some liquid of your ice-cream available on the corner of your mouth.

"Bev, I'm not into my siblings," You replied. This time, Beverly choked on hers, and you slightly chuckled. "He said he wanted to take a break from college, so I didn't really expect to see him at the store."

Beverly swallowed, face riddled red, "Oh.. I'm sorry for assuming.."

You chuckled, "That's okay. It's the first time I've heard it."

Beverly looked at you, still blushing but smiling. Upon the sight of it, you suddenly remembered your crush on her and blushed, looking anywhere but her face.

A question began to resonate in your head, suddenly realizing the situation you were in. Why would Beverly be jealous of an interaction between you and (B/N)? It seemed like a bad idea to do this in public, so you immediately took shelter in the back alleyway where you treated Ben on his wound.

"So, um," you tried to speak, sitting down on the concrete ground, "Uh.. What's your favorite Shakespeare's book?"

You mentally congratulated yourself as Beverly laughed, and she sat down next to you, making your heart soar.

"We're not gonna discuss what's a more tragic story, right?" Beverly teased, smiling before she bit on her ice-cream cone. "Because, in my humble opinion, it's Macbeth."

You faked an offended gasp, "How dare you! I think Romeo and Juliet is more tragic!"

Beverly laughed at your fake tone, before replying back with a smile, "Oh yeah? Then name at least three of their struggles."

You smirked, preparing to sound like a big nerd. "One, they both fell in love with each other even though they're from opposing sides. Two, Romeo --my homeboy-- went all out with Juliet, even sacrificing his privilege in his monarch."

Beverly laughed at your remark, just as your brain began to melt. You don't even remember the story; you're just trying to amuse your crush.

"Third.." You spoke a bit more slowly, realizing you had nothing else to say. You silently cursed as Beverly cheered at her one-sided victory.

"I guess I win," Beverly taunted you with a smirk. You pouted and gave her a fake glare, lips purposefully put out.

"Well, can you at least gave me the third answer?" You inquired, ready to see Beverly's face crumble. She did, but it wasn't out of panic-amusement, more like actual panic.

"Well.." She spoke, her voice evenly quiet, "In the end, Romeo didn't even get to live with his lover just as Juliet didn't. Romeo won't get to live with his girl anymore and build his house around her or get married and have a kid. And what's more, I think their story are more tragic love, because their love for each other was equally hated by everyone around them. And the fact that Juliet has to be married to a guy she didn't knew.."

It was silent. The air was now heavy, as you quietly processed Beverly's words. Your heart stuttered yet you hesitated.

Was Beverly saying what you think she's saying? Was she...?

"Do you..?" You swallowed, already regretting the words out of your mouth, "Do you like someone, Bev?"

Beverly's head turned to you, but her eyes were on the ground, "Yeah. I do."

Your heart dropped, shattering into pieces. "A-ah, then.. that's good."

Beverly shook her head, surprising you, "It's not good if your dad beat you up over it."

You swallowed. Even the mention of Beverly's father made you angry. You were glad no one came to his funeral.

"Why would he did that?"

"I don't know," the girl next to you sighed and leaned against the wall, "I was just stupid and told him I liked someone and he.."

Shocking you, tears cornered on her eyes. You unhesitatingly hugged Beverly, giving her comforting touches and rubbing her back in a calming way. She sobbed silently on your shoulder, except for the few sniffs.

After a calm moment, Beverly slowly pulled back from you, eyes rimmed red. She wiped her tears away, chuckling somberly.

"And the stupid thing was, my crush didn't return it." She spoke, before sighing. There was another question in the back of your mind, nagging you to ask the big mystery.

"Who is it? Your crush?" You inquired. "I promise, I won't judge."

"Oh, you will," Beverly sarcastically replied, but she deflated again. "It's.. _Greta_."

Your eyes widened. "What?!"

Beverly gave you a sad smile, "I know what you're thinking. But that was when we were in 3rd Grade. I don't like her anymore, for obvious reasons."

Your mouth was still agape, but you still asked, "But.. why do Greta bully you? Did she knew you have a crush on her or..?"

Beverly frowned, but not at you. She seemed to remember the bad memory, "Turns out, I've been messing with a boy she like. She got jealous and tried to fight me, and after that, I just.."

Beverly sighed. "I was just trying to find a friend, but after sixth grade, she started a rumor on me and it's still standing to this day."

Beverly shook her head, scoffing and rolled her eyes, "Can't believe I used to like her. I'm glad I know her true face."

You, on the other hand, were panicking. If Beverly likes girls, and you like her, does that mean..?!

You were over the moon, at the same time as your stomach did somersaults. This was happening, _this was happening for real, this is not a dream_!

"I'm glad, too," You spoke, trying to hide your glee intention, "Because any other girl is better than Greta Keene."

Beverly chuckled, before the slightest tint of blush appeared on her cheeks. "Me too."

"I--" Your throat welled up, and you swallowed again. This was the moment of truth, now or never. "Beverly, I.. I wanted to say that.."

The words were on the tip of your tongue yet, it felt as if your mouth were stapled, "I.. I like you. More than a friend. Like, I want to hold your hands and kiss you like any other couple would and.."

You sighed, defeated. "Please say something. I don't wanna feel like an idiot."

Beverly's face was marred with shock. For her lack of words, she recovered with a smile. A happy smile.

Your eyes widened, as Beverly tackle-hugged you. Her grip was no longer friendly, it was intimate and one of her hands reside on the crook of your neck.

"(Y/N)!" She yelled with a smile, "You have _no idea _how much this makes me happy!"

She squealed and hugged you, and you could only be confused. Now, perplexity entered you.

You slowly draw away from Beverly, eyes wide, "You.. You like me, Bev?"

"_Yes, _airhead," she playfully shot back with a smile, "I've always had been. Now, come here and let me kiss you."

Her bold word made you blushed, but you glanced at the vacant hallway that lead you back to humanity. There were still people on the front, and if they see you two fooling around..

Beverly seemed to have caught your thoughts, and she urged to go into the deeper parts of the alleyway. Now protection assured, Beverly held your cheeks and kissed you gingerly.

Her red lips tasted sweet, much like vanilla and cream, due to her finished frozen treat. You replied back willingly, butterflies erupting like volcano in your chest and stomach.

She was kissing you. _Beverly Marsh _was kissing you.

You didn't want to break away, but the oxygen in your lung were dwindling. And so, you and Beverly broke the kiss, breathless and panting.

"Wow.." Was the only thing you could say. Your flesh would've probably melted at the amount of heat gathered on your cheeks.

Beverly gave you a cheeky grin, her freckled cheeks also decorated with a blush. "You wanna do that again?"

"Sure." You dizzily agreed, still taken-aback from the last kiss. Beverly giggled before leaning close to you again, her hands now situated on your waist. Her lips encaptured yours again, taking your breath away.

Under the summer sun, (Y/N) and Beverly secretly kissed, away from the prying eyes of society and away from their families. Butterflies began to grew from them, feeling only safe in each other's arms.


	18. SLOT 3: STANLEY URIS

_1989, December 21st..._

By the end of the summer, Beverly had moved away to live with her aunt. You and the group missed her terribly, yet her phone calls seem to made those feelings disappear.

Unknown to the rest, you had always called her each night. Whether it'll be to complain about your daily menstrual cycle or Richie's behavior, you always had a good laugh.

However, one particular night, you needed to confess something to Beverly.

"No way," Your eyes widened through the other line, but your tone of voice gave it all away, "Two gays?! At your school?!"

"Don't speak so loud!" The redhead slightly scold you. "Ugh, and they act like Richie and Eddie, too."

You giggled, "California sounds amazing. Better than Derry, at least."

Beverly shared your chuckle, "It's a terrible town, but you guys do still live in it. So I can't say much."

"It's okay, Bev, we won't take offense."

You both laughed on the line. When it became quiet again, you suddenly remembered the topic you wanted to talk about.

"Hey, um, Bev?" You nervously started, heart already bouncing in your chest.

"Hmm?"

"I kinda caught feelings," You paused, face burning before you continued, "For Stan."

At first, the line went quiet. Then, you heard Beverly muttered.

"Oh, no.."

"I-I know," You stuttered, already trying to defend yourself, "I kinda blew up on him, but I swear! I regret it, okay!"

"Did you apologize?" Beverly asked, worried.

You twirled the cords of your house's phone between your fingers, "I'll be stupid if I didn't.."

"Well, look on the bright side," The redhead tried to cheer you up, "Maybe.. um, he forgot about it already?"

"I doubt it. Ugh, and I blew up on him at his own house... God, I'm so stupid.."

Your mind recounted the accident multiple times, and each time you do, you always winced. If time-travelling is real, you would've taken the chance to catch yourself before you lost control.

"Wait, I think I have an idea," Beverly said on the line, perking you up, "Hanukkah's happening tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah..?"

"So what if...." Beverly elaborated her plan. Her own plan caused you to blush.

"T-that's crazy, Bev! What if it turned out awkward?!"

"Then ask him if you should stop, and try other things that work on this guy!" Beverly persuaded you, "C'mon, this is your chance! Take it or leave it, (Y/N)!"

"Oh, my god.." You uttered to yourself yet the redhead heard it. You exhaled, before shaking to yourself.

"Fine, I'll do it."

"That's my girl!" Beverly cheered on the other line, and you can imagine her grin, "Write down your ideas or ask your dad. He's got to have some tricks up his sleeves if he can get your mom."

"I feel like that's an insult to him but I'll take it.."

* * *

_December 22nd..._

You swallowed, hands slightly shaking and gripping each other. The sun beat on your skin, as you looked at Stan.

Currently, your group were hanging out in the quarry again, but this time, you and the rest were just playing board games. You didn't join the rest, with a flimsy excuse saying you weren't good in board games.

"What do you mean I got evicted out of my house?!" Richie angrily asked. Bill, the narrator, only shrugged.

"And that's not all. You g-g-gotta pay Ben 10,000 dollar for b-b-breaking into his home."

"That's because the motherfucker took one of my properties!" Richie heatedly said, pointing his middle finger to Ben. Ben only sighed.

You only laughed silently as Richie proceeded to get more angry. You briefly glanced at Stan, who was also not participating in the game. He was focused on his tiny book, and you caught his lips occasionally twitching.

"Whatchu reading there?" You inquired to him, glancing at the book. Stan seemed to snapped out of his study, and he briefly showed the content of the book to you.

"Just some prayers I have to remember for tonight's Hanukkah," Stan explained, "You know, the usual deal."

You feigned surprise at the mention of Hanukkah. "Oh, really? Why do you have to remember the prayer?"

"Because my dad peer-pressured me," Stan said, and you caught him smiling at his own joke. You slightly chuckled as he explained properly, "I guess, just like my speech at the synagogue, this kind of thing makes me a man."

You suddenly remembered Richie's word, "Didn't they cut the tip of your dick off?"

Immediately, you blushed and tried to correct your earlier statement, "I-I mean, it's not that I searched that stuff, Richie told me about it and--and.."

You words failed you, only coming in gibberish. Stan only looked at you with an amused smile, his eyes lighting up with each of your failed speech.

"It's okay," he briefly stopped your panic, touching you lightly on the shoulder. Stan smiled as you solely focused on him, "I figured Richie told you that stuff, anyways."

You smiled awkwardly, ignoring the burn on your cheeks. "R-right. But just in case, let's never talk about this again.."

In your mind, you wanted to scream. Your whole body felt embarrassed by your own action, and you felt as if jumping into the green waters of the quarry wouldn't be such a bad thing.

"Ah, I won!" Mike let out, snapping you out of your daydream. Bill cheered for the boy but Ben, Eddie, and Richie didn't feel the same, only complaining loudly as Mike smiled.

As you headed home, Bill seemed to whisper something to the rest, but not you and Stan. You were curious and suspicious by the stuttering boy's sudden action.

"What are you guys talking about?" You inquired to them, eyebrows raised. You didn't caught Bill's gesture to the boys, putting his mouth on his lips to signify the boys to not tell you.

"Nothing," Eddie quickly talked as usual, "Uh, we were just.."

"Talking about our dick sizes." Richie bravely declared, and you shook your head and turned away. Eddie sent the trashmouth a glare but could not argue with him.

The boys seemed to be in a rush. Upon reaching Richie's house, the others seemed persistent in getting to their home. You and Stan only shared a confused look.

After the rest disappeared, you started to notice their scheme. You and Stan were the only one to be heading home, and you cursed the others for this. Usually, Bill was the last one to head home, but he used an excuse of helping his mother in the house to arrive at his home sooner.

Bill sent you a wink and a grin, as the door of his home closed. You blushed, immediately glancing at Stan. The Jewish boy didn't notice, only busy to block his eyes under the sun.

Only silence was in the air. You glanced at Stan again, and your eyes met with each other. You two immediately looked away, heat rushing to their cheeks.

"S-so, um," You cleared the awkward air away, clearing your throat, "What's it like celebrating Hanukkah?"

Stan raised an eyebrow at your question, "You really wanna know?"

You nodded.

"Well.." He heaved an exhale, preparing himself for a lengthy explanation, "On the good side, my grandparents usually gave me gifts and made some home-made breads. On the bad side, my dad looks at me as if expecting me to chant the whole book of _Torah _to show my grandparents I'm a 'man' now."

Stan scoffed, as you nodded at his story. Then, he shyly smiled, seemingly embarrassed.

"Sorry you had to hear that, (Y/N)," he apologized shyly, "I don't wanna sound like an entitled kid.."

You shook your head, "No, you don't need to apologize. I'm always here to hear your story. And you don't sound like a brat, don't worry."

Stan seemed to appreciate your words, as his smile turning more sincere, "Thanks, (Y/N)."

You returned his smile, "No problem, Stan."

Stan seemed in trance on you, until he snapped out from it. He looked to the front, and you noticed the usual house of the Uris's.

"Well, my stop is here," Stan spoke, and you two walked to his frontyard. Stan turned to you before he knocked on the door, "Well, bye?"

"Wait, one last thing," You spoke, suddenly remembering Beverly's words. Your cheeks heat up as you silently cursed yourself, "Hey, Stan. Do you.. know what's sweeter than candy?"

The Jewish boy looked confused by your sudden question, "I don't know. What?"

"You." You answered, your skin burning. You quickly turned away from Stan, embarrassment and regret already rolling into you, "Well then, BYE!"

You quickly sprinted down the stairs of the Uris's porch, and got on your bike. You didn't wait to hear Stan's response, your brain shutting out any possible answers from the boy.

* * *

_December 23rd..._

Regret and shame were still in your system. Yesterday's event were still playing in your mind.

After basically dashing out of Stan's frontyard and arriving at your home, you screamed into your pillow. Like any good 13 year-old should do to let go of their frustration or embarrassment.

Seeing as your reaction was already this bad, you opted to not do it again. But a stubborn part of your brain protested, telling you can give Stan another terrible pick-up line but _discretely._

With a quick shop to the thrift store in Derry, you came back home with a single tiny board of sticky notes, rainbow-inked pens and multiple packets of candies. Unlike what your family thought, you were not eating the packet of candies alone and told them to stay away from it.

Being the respectful adults they are, they respect your wish. Though, your brother nearly ate one of the candies and your sister had to stop you from committing a homicide.

Alone in your bedroom, you swung your legs in the air, as you stared at the note you had written in. The paper was pink, and the content was written in green:

**To Stan**

**If I had four quarters to give to the four handsomest guys in the world, you would have a dollar!**

**-(Y/N)**

You blushed at your terrible line, and screamed silently in your heart. To the discretion you had promised to yourself, you decided to rid of it. You didn't have a reason, only too afraid Stan would mistook the letters you sent him as someone else.

With the candy in your hand, you tore one of the tapes and snipped a short part of it, sticking it to the candy before conjoining it with the paper.

You stared at your work, before smiling to yourself. You hoped this would work.

You wouldn't sent this love letters with terrible pick-up lines in broad daylight, you would do it in night.

And so, after sneaking out of your house through the window of your house --a ladder was already held up to your window--, you rode down silently on the ladder, each steps ringing with the shake of the ladder.

You rode your bike and head for Stan's home, heart hammering with the cold night air biting on your skin. It was a strange experience for you; sneaking out at 10 PM just to give a boy some letter. But then again, Stanley was worth it.

You arrived on the Uris's household. The star pentagram on the middle of their house's window was lit up with blue light, making your eyes less strained.

You sneaked quietly to their door, making sure you weren't seen through the window. You placed the candy and the letter on the ground, making sure even it doesn't crunched.

You braced yourself, staring at their door. You knocked briefly on the door, before dashing out from the porch. You hid behind a neighbour's fence, blocking anyone from seeing you and your bike.

You hear the door creaked, and silently prayed to yourself it would be Stan to open it. You peeked from the neighbor's fence, and the sight made your heart melt.

God seemed to answer your prayer, and it was Stan who opened the door. You managed to spot him pick up the candy and the letter. His eyes seemed to roam quickly over the letter, and through the strain light from the inside of his house, he smiled.

Not just any smile. A smile where you can see his teeth. You blushed, silently glad to decide to stay for a few moment.

Here you were, 13 year-old in your pajamas, wooing at your crush through the neighbor's fence.

* * *

_December 29th.._

With each day, you produced letters with bad pick-up lines for Stan. Each new day made you feel energetic and inspired, to write another terrible pick-up lines.

Yet, as days passed, you noticed Hanukkah was nearing its end. You were slightly sad over this, remembering you can't give Stan any more letters anymore.

After all, it's what you and Beverly discussed about. After Hanukkah ends, it's up to Stan to decide. Whether he likes you or not.

The thought gave you anxiety, but you knew you can't force him to like you. Not after _that_ particular bad event..

You wondered why he didn't came down to your house, seeing as he knew you were the one to gave him those letters. An anxious part of you whispered that he didn't do so because he didn't share your feelings. However, you shook it away. You shouldn't be thinking about this, to hallucinate Stan's decision. After all, he's his own person.

And so, like any other night, you sneaked out of your window to send the letter in your hand.

You idly swirled your bike to the usual pattern to Stan's house, the movement giving you a moment of exhilaration.

Arriving at the Uris's household, you exhaled. You did your usual thing: you left the note --with the usual candy taped to it-- and knocked briefly before you dashed out of the frontyard. As usual, you hid behind the fence in the neighbor's property.

You flinched, feeling a drip of water landed on your cheek. You frowned, before you wiped it away. But soon, patters of water began to hit your body, and before you can register it, it started raining.

You frowned, feeling your clothes began to get damp. You glanced at the door to the Uris's household, and you remembered the time.

It was 11:45 PM. They must have fallen asleep.

You cursed to yourself. You had fell into a nap prior this, and cursed to yourself again. Perhaps, if you were earlier..

_Clack. _Your attention perked up, peering into the fence. Your heartrate sped up, as your pupils blown wide.

It was Stan. You thought he had fell asleep, but this didn't seem to be the case. He looked agitated before his attention immediately went to the ground.

He picked up the note and the candy, and you spot his usual sincere smile. A dose of serotonin induced itself to you, and you found yourself also smiling, despite the rain.

You thought Stan would've went into his home again, but then, unexpectedly, he grabbed something from the back of the door before light flashed its way onto the front yard.

_Oh no. _You panicked, immediately figuring out the Jewish boy will look around for you. You spot your bike, and your heart fell from your chest.

It was peeking out from the neighbor's fence, enough to be recognizable. You cursed to yourself, contemplating to brought your bike closer to you. Yet, you stopped yourself as Stan had already began to exit his way from his porch.

His feet hit against the dewy grass in his frontyard, just as your heart beats a thousand miles. What would you explain to him? That you were watching him as he laughed at your terrible lines? And the fact that you were incredibly soaked from the rain didn't help.

Stan aimed his flashlight to the rear end of your bike, causing you to wince. Do you have to show yourself?

"(Y/N)!" Stan suddenly shouted, surprising you, "Come on out! It's raining!"

You tried to ignore the burning on your cheeks. Your crush, calling you like his lost pet? Never in your wildest dream.

You slowly stood up from the tall fence, and Stan's flashlight immediately aimed at you, causing you to wince at the bright light.

You tried for a smile, shrugging lightly, "Funny seeing you here, Stanley."

He immediately went to you, and you noticed the red umbrella he had. He immediately put it above your heads, causing the pour of the rain to stop. You glanced as the waters dripped from the umbrella's sides.

"This is dangerous, (Y/N)," Stan slightly scolded you with a frown, "You can catch a cold."

Thankfully, your outfit weren't your pajama. But Stan still offered his jacket to you. You accepted it, blushing slightly.

"Sorry," You spoke, "I know I'm creepy for doing this but--"

"Oh, for leaving those notes?" Stan asked, and brought out his hand. In his palm, reside those very same paper. He smiled, "No, I like them. But what's the sudden occasion?"

You heaved an exhale, "Beverly, she.. she kinda made me do it. It's all corny, I know."

You momentarily contemplated to tell Stan the whole ordeal, and decided to do so, "It's.. it's Beverly's idea. She said I'll need to come up with eight pick-up lines --for your Hanukkah's celebration. Um.."

You awkwardly shuffled your feet on the ground, anxiety swelling into you. You sighed, "Look, I.. It was just a dumb idea and if you want me to stop, I'll stop."

You looked on the ground, but Stan seemed to stare at you. He pocketed the note in his pocket with great care, before turning to you.

"Do you.. Can I at least hear the last line you have for tomorrow?" Stan inquired. You looked up to him, surprised. You cleared your throat, beyond embarrassed.

You were planning and revising for this line, but you never expected to say it outloud. You looked at Stan, not wanting to turn away anymore.

"I'm learning about important dates in history," You spoke. The heavy rain were starting to ebb away, as you spoke your last line, "Wanna be one of them?"

Your cheeks burned, but you await for Stan's answer. Before you, Stan blushed, before splitting into that great smile again.

Suddenly, he threw the umbrella away, but you didn't mind. Your silent question were answered as Stan lifted your head up. You spot him swallowing, before leaning in.

Your lips was cold, but Stan's seemed to warm it up. You unhesitatingly leaned in, silently awaiting for this moment. The rain didn't seem to disturb you anymore, only a background sound to your ears.

You two broke apart, gasping for air. Your eyes looked into Stan's, as his does the same. For the first time, you finally caught his admiration for you, that you always missed during the summer.

Yet, here you were, looking at him in the exact same way.

The rain stopped, only giving few patters of water to signify it's ending. You smiled, before laughing. Stan seemed to be confused but he can't help and mirror you.

"I'll take that as a yes." You joked, looking at Stan as if he was your very own sun. Stan laughed, and you slightly melt over the sound.

You looked up on the sky, before grinning.

"We kissed in the rain," You pointed out before you shook your damp head, "Can this get more cliche?"

"I can kiss you again," Stan bravely spoke with a grin. "That'll be cliche."

You giggled, before shyly nodding. "I'll take your words for it."

And so, you two kissed again. But this time, it was rainless. And more warm. The clock strikes 12 midnight, marking the day as 30th December.


	19. SLOT 4: RICHIE TOZIER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: A MENTION OF HOMOPHOBIC SLUR

It was, in your book, the best day to ever happen to you.

"Okay, dumbass, but can you do this?!"

You hit the buttons on the game consecutively, and the screen before you portrayed your character of choice beating the hell out of Richie's character.

For the remaining days of summer, you and Richie had compromised to spend your time in the arcade, as a way to get over your group's old conflicts. So far, it was working but not so much in Richie's favour.

The trashmouth complained, groaning, "Ugh, you always spam your 'Finish' buttons!"

You grinned, still not taking your eyes of the arcade screen, "Yeah, that's how you win, Rich."

And so, your in-game character cornered Richie's character. You hit the buttons quickly as your friend next to you tried to fight, but his attacks didn't halt your attacks one bit.

One last hit to the character, and a bellowing 'K.O!' screen appeared as Richie's character went down. The trashmouth whined while you cheered.

"Better luck next time, gamer," you taunted the boy, as he pouted.

"You're straight up cheating! That's not fair!"

You only arrogantly posed as Richie complained. You laughed as he still complained, scouring through the bottom of his pocket in hopes to find a coin.

However, you spotted an arcade, with a bright flashing color of pink and hearts on the sides. You were interested, to say the least.

You halted Richie's talk, more focused on the arcade you spotted. Immediately, an idea pitched into you.

"Hey, let's check that out!" You said to him, pointing to the arcade. Before Richie can reply, you were already dragging him to the flashy arcade.

Richie only looked confused as you two stood before it. He fixed his glasses, "Why the fuck do you wanna play _this _game?"

_'Match Made in Heaven!' _There was a lady on the front of the screen, with a matching pink outfit, brown hair and glasses. She looked at you as if expecting you to press the 'Start' button.

You looked at the arcade token you had. So far, you had planned to save it if Richie started whining how he wanted a rematch, but now...

Richie protested as you put the arcade coin on the slot of the machine, and the game allowed you to play.

"(Y/N), I know we're friends but this is insane," Richie said before gesturing to the game in a flabber-ghasted manner, "_This_?! Over _Street Fighter_?! Come on!"

You grinned at him cockily, the pink screen flashing on your face, "Deal with it, Tozier! Besides, I wanna test something."

Before he can ask what you meant, you pressed the 'Start' button. The arcade started telling the stories of thousands of men and women, each looking for love yet not having the bravery to do so. You heard Richie scoffed, and you laughed at the ironic intro.

Then, the game spoke about itself, how it will determine love by giving you a series of quests and questions. You spot Richie leaning over in slight interest, making you smile.

The question began. The first question was: _"What is your crush's gender?"_

Unhesitatingly, you picked _'Male__'_. The joystick shifted under your control, letting you click the option.

Second question; _'What is your gender?'_

This time, you smirked and picked _'Male'_.

"What the fuck?!" Richie whisper-yelled at you, "Who the hell are you matching up with?!"

You put your finger on your lips, ordering the boy to stay quiet. You focused back on the game as Richie shook his head.

Third question was: _'Does your crush always laugh when you made a joke?'_

At this question, you were stumped. Then, you answered, _'Yes'_.

Fourth question: _'Does your crush gets overly jealous when you spend time with others?'_

_ 'No'._

Fifth question: _'Is your crush your best friend?'_

You smirked, clicking _'Yes__'_.

"I'm kinda sensing a pattern here.." Richie muttered, as he stared at your face. You shrugged, trying to look innocent.

The next five questions asked your 'crush's' zodiac sign, his religion (you wondered why that even matters), his personality, his age and his favorite color.

Overall, you were sure you did good. The _'Verify' _button appeared after the last question and you clicked it. The screen began loading, before the result presented itself before you.

"_100%_?!" Richie let out in disbelief as your eyes also widened. You didn't expect it to go this well, "Whoever you're shipping, they're gonna fuckin' love each other for a long time."

Suddenly, there was a golden coin and a letter exited out for the thin-lined mechanisms opening from the arcade, grabbing your attention. You grabbed the receipt-like paper while Richie confiscated the golden coin.

The receipt's content was written in blue pen: _'__Congratulations! Your love-o'-meter passed our check! For more information, please check our website-'_

After that, you had lost interest. You thought to keep the receipt, as Richie showed you the coin.

"This isn't even an exchangeable arcade coin!" The trashmouth said in disbelief. When you took the coin from him, sure enough, there was a heart-shaped symbol engraved on the token on both sides. You decided to keep it.

After exiting the arcade, Richie complained along the way, "That was such a waste of a good arcade coin, dude! Honestly, they probably gave you a 100-percent just so they can leech us off!"

"So basically, a scam?"

"What do you think, genius?" Richie sarcastically quipped. You laughed before you brought out the golden token.

You inspected it, and turned to Richie, "Wanna know who I had in mind when I answered that quiz?"

This time, Richie seemed more interested, leaning to you with curious eyes. "Who?"

You flipped the coin in the air before taking it back, and passed it to Richie. You smiled, "You and Eddie."

And with that, you ran ahead of Richie, joyfully laughing. The trashmouth took a moment to processed your words, and after he did, he blushed before chasing after you.

"Come back here, you little shit!"

* * *

Richie Tozier was confused.

He stared at the golden coin, leisurely weaving it through his fingers. When the coin landed on the front of his thumb, he flicked it into the air before smoothly catching it.

Over the few days before summer ends, you had been stuck inside his head. And he can't explain it.

He can't explain why, because even though he wanted to deny it, he knew he had feelings for Eddie. Much like a crush. So that automatically made him gay, or what Bowers had called him, a _faggot_.

Yet, he suddenly began to have attractions to _you_. Attractions much like what he had for Eddie, and that made him confused.

Richie thought he was gay, but with you in the picture, he doesn't think so. He doesn't think a gay man can like girls romantically.

And that made him conflicted. He knew he found Bill attractive when he first met him, and he knew he wasn't interested in any girls before.

What was he? Was Richie Tozier a gay boy, or a straight boy? Either way, he didn't knew. Both of these terms, he didn't feel comfortable in using any of it.

1989, there was only two options for your sexuality. Straight or homosexual, one of which had terrified Richie at one point. When he discovered he like boys, he took a cold shower, and prayed to God the waters will rinse himself.

Now, he can't help but scoffed. Perhaps, if he could go back in time, he would've comforted his old self. He doesn't know how but he will surely tell himself to not be afraid.

Now _you_, on the other hand, is clearly a girl. Some would think he was using you as an excuse to cover his homosexuality, but no, Richie is certain he likes you.

Likes you more than a friend, much like he had with Eddie, that's for sure. He can't deny his own beating heart when you laughed, or smiled, or even goes in for a hug.

Richie needed your advice, and with a flick of his thumb, he caught the coin in the air back into his palm and pocketed it in his pants.

He opened his door and rushed out of his house, offering a half-assed reason to his surprised parents when he fled from his room.

* * *

It was raining.

You were on the front porch of your house, swinging your legs as you watch the pour. It was strangely relaxing.

It was nearly night, and after playing in the arcade with Richie all-day, your brain had been a bit fried for staring too long at the mechanic screen. The cold water and air from the rain bit your skin but it didn't made you bothered in the slightest.

You picked up the cup next to you, and sipped the content. The liquid washed your throat and tongue. Suddenly, as you were sipping on your beverage, there was a figure cycling in the rain.

Your eyes slightly widened, as the figure raised their hand to you, alerting their presence. They parked their bike on the front of your yard as you stood up in alarm.

The figure ride the steps on your porch, and you frowned.

With his usual Hawaiian-esque outfit, and an awkward smile, you would've greeted Richie if he wasn't wet from the rain.

"Richie! Why the hell did you came to my house when it's raining?!" You shouted over the rain, immediately escorting him inside.

You opened the door to your house and closed it behind you after Richie. You turned to him, a bit annoyed, "Wait here."

Richie stood awkwardly in the front door's carpet as you ran toward who-knows-where. He looked down to his feet, already seeing a pool forming.

You returned, with a large white towel in hand. You slung it harshly over Richie's shoulder, as the boy yelped. You only gave him a withering look.

"Can't you wait until the rain was over?" You spoke, albeit more soft. Richie tried to answer but he shivered from the cold. You shook your head.

You brought him to the bathroom, opening the door for him. After the boy went inside, you told him to stay.

Richie looked at the mirror. He was, frankly, a mess. It started raining after he was half-way to your house, and after that, he had to cycle like hell. He took his glasses off and wiped away the fog from it.

Then, the door to the bathroom opened and it was you, with a mud-green hoodie in hand. You closed the door behind you.

"You're lucky I kept my brother's old sweater," You said with a sigh before passing it to Richie. "The blow-dryer's in bottom cabinet, you can dry your pants."

Before you can get out, Richie halted you.

"Wait!" The boy yelled, and you stopped your track. You looked back to him, confused. Richie swallowed, "I need to tell you something."

This time, you looked curious. Richie sat on the plate-toilet as you sat on the sink's counter. Richie heaved a sigh.

"I know it's fucking stupid of me to come at your house, in the middle of a rain, but I swear to god I didn't knew it was raining and I was already far from my home."

You shrugged, your brief moment of irritation gone, "It's okay, Rich. What do you need to tell me?"

_Shit_, the boy thought. He didn't planned this far. At first, he thought just telling you his issue with his sexuality, but his tongue suddenly seemed to dry up. But Richie mustered his will, wetting his mouth.

"You remember that time I told you about my, uh.." Despite his cheeks already burning, Richie cursed to will his tongue to be more loose, "My crush on Eddie?"

You nodded, looking at him expectantly. Richie looked at you in the eyes, swallowing again.

"I, uh, found out I like girls."

The silence was overbearing. Richie didn't have the will to look at you again. He swore you can hear his out-of-control heartbeat.

"But then.." He perked up, looking at you. You weren't disgusted, you were only confused, "What about Eddie? I thought you like him."

"I don't know." The trashmouth softly spoke. "I really don't know. That's why I need your advice, (Y/N). I like Eddie but I also like girls."

"Well," you hummed. "When did you realize you like girls, too?"

After that, Richie was sure his heart flat-lined. Was he supposed to come clean, say he like you? Or lie?

"I don't know." Richie spoke too quickly before he can think.

"That's okay," You smiled, and his stomach churned. Even your words of comfort already made him feel love-sick, "Can I.. come clean, too?"

Richie was surprised by this turn of event. He nodded, curious. You chuckled to yourself, and he spot a blush forming on your cheeks.

"I'm like you, Rich," You spoke shyly, "I like boys and girls, too."

This time, Richie was shocked. You also felt what he felt? There was an unexplainable joy exploding in his heart yet the trashmouth can't seem to form his sentences.

"That-that's great!" The trashmouth winced at his loud volume. "Uh, when did you realize?"

"It was before I moved to Derry, back in Indiana," You admitted, "My best friend, Jane, she.. she holds a special place in my heart."

"And your guy crush?" Richie inquired. Your mouth quirked into an amused smile.

"It was this one guy, I don't remember his name. But I liked him because he was really cute. But then, I don't like him anymore because he was a jerk." You shrugged at the end.

The two of you were enveloped in silence. Not awkward, not comfortable, just silence. Richie had enough, deciding to come clean to his sexual awakening.

"About my girl crush.." You perked up at Richie's voice, "I kinda lied. I knew who's my girl crush."

"Oh?" You said, curious. You didn't care if he lied, you only cared about his comfort, "Mind telling me who it is?"

Richie's cheeks warmed. This is it, the moment of truth. His hands slightly shook, but the boy still came clean.

"It's.. it's _you_, (Y/N)."

Richie watched your expression, as it went into expectation before morphed into shock. Richie smiled, a bit guilty.

"If you don't like me back, that's okay. I just needed to come clean."

Suddenly, you tackled Richie into a hug. The boy let out a surprised shout, before blushing. You didn't seem to mind his soaked form, as your body and hands held tight to him.

Richie cleared his throat, as you pulled back from him. He looked unto your blushing and smiling face, and he grinned, "I'll take that as a good response?"

"Yes, you dumbass," You said to him with a loving exasperation, your loving smile still attached to your lips. You hugged the boy again, nestling your head on the crook of his shoulder.

After the hugging session, you two were now downstairs, as Richie was in an over-sized hoodie you gave him.

You leaned into his shoulder, as the boy watched the television. You looked at him, and he noticed your stare.

"What?" Richie inquired. There was a question bugging at the back of your mind.

"What happened with Eddie?" You inquired back. Richie shrugged.

"Nothing happened. I guess I moved on?" Richie shortly explained, and you sensed him telling you the truth.

"That's good. I don't want anything bad happened to you guys," you softly told him. Richie rolled his eyes.

"You're too sappy, dude."

You chuckled. Then, you suddenly sat up, catching Richie's attention. You cupped his cheeks, making the trashmouth lost all kinds of senses from the simple touch.

"Can I..?" You silently asked for his permission, and Richie only nodded, only eager for your next action.

You brought your face closer to his, and your lips caught his. Richie silently cursed to himself for not moisturizing his lips earlier. But the thought vanished as he was too mesmerized by your action, easily leaning into you.

When you two departed from each other, Richie let out a breath before grinning. "Am I a good kisser or what?"

You rolled your eyes, grinning back at him, "You're lucky my family's out of town for the rest of the summer. Or else, my dad will be pissed if he found us."

"Brave for a guy within kissing distance," Richie whispered as you goes in for a hug, and he can hear you snort a laughter.

Suddenly, the boy remembered. Seeing as his confession went well, Richie had another trick up his sleeves. Or preferably, his pocket.

The trashmouth pulled out a familiar golden coin, as your eyes perked up. He smirked before passing the coin to you.

"If our love were put on a test, it'd be 100 percent."

You shook your head as you chuckled, silently glad the trashmouth picked a corny joke over his usual inappropriate one.


	20. SLOT 5: MIKE HANLON

The quarry. You still remembered the last time you were here, and nostalgia entered you.

But this time, something was different. You were unsure if it's the company or the lack of Beverly's presence, but it was glaringly different than last time.

"T-t-take the honors away, Mike!" Bill said with a smile. Currently, your group were standing on top of the tall hill much like last time, but this time, the boys decided to wore something appropriate: colorful shorts. Richie, of course, wore a Hawaiian-patterned one.

Mike exhaled, bracing himself. He was the only one to wore a white top, and before you can cheer him on, he ran at a great speed and jumped onto the green waters.

You heard him hollered, before a loud splashing cut him off. You and the others looked down, and cheered upon seeing the boy surfaced to the top.

You had took it upon yourself to invite others back to the quarry, with Mike. The boy had confessed he had never gone to the quarry, and Bill had planned for the boy to jump first, as a way to "break his water-virginity".

You and the others winced when he said it.

Of course, unable to stand around, you were second to jump. Much like last time, the exhilaration pumped into your system as the waters greeted you.

You cheered when you surfaced to the top, smiling and beaming. You looked at Mike, who was casually swimming. You slightly chuckled, finding the sight adorable.

You brought out your hand for a high-five, and he smiled before returning it.

Soon, others joined you and Mike. They each gave their excited screams, before you and the others played in the waters.

"I bet I can push your ass down!" Richie challenged you with a grin. You froze, before smiled. Yet, it has a hint of mischief in it.

"Game on, scrawny guy!" You said, accepting his challenge. As Richie dragged Stan to carry him, you looked around for your partner.

Eddie were busy with Ben. They were both talking and laughing occasionally, so you crossed them off your mind. When you looked at Bill and Mike, heat unintentionally rushed to your cheeks when your gaze landed on the latter.

Yet, you mustered the courage to talk to them and shook away your initial embarrassment.

"Hey, Bill?" You called to the boy before swimming to him, "Richie's being a little shit and challenged me again. Be my partner?"

He looked ready to reply, but you caught him hesitated. He glanced at Mike and looked back at you with a smile, "Why d-d-don't you ask Mike? He's more fit than me."

You were about to protest, heat rushing back into your cheeks. Yet, Bill only gave you an airy shrug as you tried to gather your words.

"Well, it's not a bad idea," You said, and caught yourself before you stuttered. You looked at Mike with a bashful grin, "Carry me again?"

You were sure Mike will refuse, seeing as he valued his personal space, but he nodded. You broke into a smile again, but contained yourself before your feelings became too apparent.

After Beverly had moved away, you started to realize your feelings for Mike. He was the perfect boy: bashful, respects your boundaries and space, and not to mention the fact that he was cute _and _fit -- a dangerous combination.

At first, you made sure to not have your feelings became too apparent around Mike, afraid he will start to catch on. Yet, you can't help but realize the time you had became too happy in his presence. And heat would start rising to you again, before embarrassment swell in.

You realized it yourself, but the words never fail to make your heart flutter. You have a crush on Mike Hanlon.

Riding Mike's shoulder --again-- was a bizarre experience, now that you realized your feelings for him. You tried to contain your shaking, heart beating out of control. When your legs finally swung over Mike's shoulder, you exhaled.

"Sorry for the lack of warning, but I'm heavy," You sheepishly told Mike. He looked up to you and smiled. The simple gesture made your stomach churned.

"No, no, it's okay," He softly told you, before faced the front, "I'd carried stuff heavier than you, (Y/N)."

You chuckled, playing off as if your heart weren't about to explode, "Thanks, Mike."

"You losers ready to go down?!" Suddenly, Richie shouted at you two, grinning ear-to-ear. Stan carried him, looking exasperated already.

You grinned and braced yourself, "Bring it on, beanstalk boy!"

And just like that, Mike and Stan advanced forward. You and Richie immediately pushed each other, laughters and shouts of challenging remarks thrown to each other. However, you leaned forward as you put your fullest energy into your hands, and roughly pushed Richie in the chest.

The trashmouth let a shout of surprise before he and Stan fell into the water. You and Mike cheered, followed by laughters when you saw Richie and Stan surfaced back to the top, frazzled and confused.

"See," You smugly told to Richie, "You can never beat me, Tozier!"

The trashmouth only gave you the middle finger, and you laughed. You finally rode off Mike's shoulder, your hand holding his hand as your feet dipped into the water.

Mike twirled around as your body were engulfed back in the water, and you gave him a thankful smile.

"Thanks, Mike." You said, unaware of how soft your voice were. Mike seemed to be flustered by your words, and he looked down on the ground, smiling sheepishly.

"It's nothing. I'm just being Prince Charming." The boy joked, and you chuckled. Heat find its way back into your cheeks, but you ignored it. You were simply basking in Mike's presence, appreciating his attempt for a joke.

Soon, it was time to go home. You and the gang talked among the way, the boys now dressed in their shirts. You, however, had simply forgotten a simple thing. You had forgotten to brought a towel and changing clothes.

When you realized this, Mike seemed to notice your concern.

"What's wrong?" He inquired to you, frowning. You sighed.

"I.. kinda forgot to bring a towel," You admitted, "I was in such a rush.."

You frowned, beating yourself upon this problem. Mike, however, seemed to have a simple solution. He brought his navy-blue towel to your figure, and you perked up at his action.

"Wait, wait, what about you?" You asked him with a frown, alarmed. You didn't want Mike to be left cold, while you were warm. He only pointed to his faded-yellow shirt and gave a small smile to you.

"I'll be fine. I'm warm enough."

You pouted, but hesitantly accepted the towel. It wrapped around your body and sucked the water from your figure. Your heart slightly fluttered when Mike tightened the hold of the towel around your body.

"S-sorry," He immediately apologized, realizing his action, "I- um.."

"It's okay, Mike," You told him with a shy smile, heat radiating from your face, "I don't mind."

And so, here you were, in Mike's towel. With every butterflies formed in your stomach, you gripped the towel. Others seemed to notice this, and only gave knowing glances to each other. You gave Bill an embarrassed glare when the stuttering boy gave you a sly grin when Mike wasn't looking.

"So, um," You spoke to your crush, trying to break the silence, "Is it.. fun on the farm?"

You mentally face-palmed at your question, as Mike hummed.

"I guess.. Why?" He answered with a question. Now, you were a bit curious. You had never been to a farm, and the only experience you had with animals was petting a cat.

"Well, can I come over one day?" You asked, "I've never been to a farm before."

Mike smiled, "Sure, my grandpa won't mind. Though, don't pet the lambs like last time. They're really anxious."

You blinked, before nodding. You slightly laughed at yourself, imagining the lambs to hiss at you like a cat.

For a moment, you conversed with Mike. He had told you his grandfather didn't enroll him in Derry Middle School because Mike's mother was a Catholic, and had wished her son will go to a school followed by Catholic rules.

You didn't even realized or cared much now that others were gone, too focused on your crush.

"It's a bit boring," Mike admitted, "I don't really know anyone there, and you guys aren't in it.."

"Why don't you move?" You suggested, but he shook his head.

"My grandpa doesn't allow it. He thinks I'll be bullied.." Mike muttered. It was no secret that he was always bullied by Bowers for his skin color, and your blood boiled over the thought.

"Well, you have us," You replied, and hesitantly grabbed his hand. Mike accepted your contact, "I know our gang can't beat racism but we'll protect you, Mike. Maybe your grandpa needs to see you as a person who have his own choices he wants to make."

He seemed to consider your words, as Mike's eyes looked to the ground, soaking your words in. He looked back at you, squeezed your hand, and smiled.

"Maybe you're right, (Y/N). I think.. I'll talk to him about it." Mike said, smiling reassuringly to himself. You grinned and squeezed his hand back.

Before you can reply, Mike perked up and pointed his hand behind your back. You looked back and spot your house, awaiting your embrace.

"Oh!" You realized, and gave the boy next to you a sheepish smile. You let go of his hand with a fraction of hesitation, "Sorry, I got distracted. It was nice talking to you, Mike."

Mike also shyly smiled, letting past a sheepish chuckle, "No, it's okay. It was nice talking to you too, (Y/N)."

You constantly looked back to Mike until you reached the door to your house. You waved at him for the last time, before using your house-key on the door. You entered your house, and looked back again. Mike waved at you, smiling slightly.

You waved back with a grin, and closed the door. When it shuts with a click, you exhaled and pressed your back to the door, cheeks hurting. You feel around your face, still feeling heat and your gums hurting for smiling too much.

You exhaled again, before squealing to the top of your lungs.

* * *

"Who's towel is this?"

It was laundry day for your family. You had brought your dirty piles of clothes to your mother, who will be managing the arrangements of the dirty laundry.

You froze, seeing a familiar navy-blue towel.

"Holy shit!" You accidentally cursed, forgetting to turn off your filter. Your whole family scolded you for your brash language but you could care less.

You rushed to your mother and ripped the towel away from her grip. "Oh my god!" You let out, frustrated and surprised. You gripped the towel with intensity, before burrowing your face to avoid your family members from seeing your face.

You groaned, until your brother asked what was wrong.

"Something special about it?" He inquired, brows raised. You almost yelled 'Yes!' but stopped yourself at the last moment.

"Uh-- I gotta go!" You quickly let out, before dashing out from the living room into the frontyard. Your family members only looked at each other, beyond confused.

You quickly mounted your bike and stuffed the towel in the silver basket, and peddled quickly. Along the way, you cursed to yourself over and over again.

How could you forgot to return Mike's towel?! Heat rushed its way into your cheeks, and that spurred you into thinking for excuses.

You didn't have any towel at the house? You immediately scratched it out of your head. You liked to keep the towel as a memoir from Mike and that's why you didn't gave it back? Yeah right, that'll make him call the cops on you.

Upon arriving at the farmhouse, you simply decided to say your forgot. You snatched the blue towel from your bike's basket and dashed toward to the front door of the barn.

The building was a dark brown in color, and you can hear the faint sound of sheeps bleating. You knew where the farm was, since Mike had shown the way to display his part-time job. You remembered Richie being kicked in the face when he neared a new-born lamb, and the memory soothed you momentarily.

Bracing yourself, you abruptly knocked on the door. For a moment, you felt ridiculous. Looking down at the towel in your hand, you had to shook the desire to keep it.

But --much to your surprise yet pleasure-- someone did opened the door. Someone you didn't knew.

It was an old man: with dark skin and grey hair, neatly tucked into a grey cap. He wore a green apron that was hanging lowly on his chest, and he wore a grey shirt with long sleeves. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbow, and he looked confused by your presence.

"Who are you, kid?" He asked, eyebrows raised. You swallowed, realizing this was Mike's grandfather; William Hanlon.

You caught yourself before you could stutter, already nervous by the man's presence, "Hello, sir. I'm (Y/N), Mike's friend. I'm here to return something from him.."

You brought your hand up, bringing the towel up. You thought the old man will take it by your hand --simple and easier-- but he seemed to guess something. Something that was entirely accurate.

"Hmm, actually," the man started, and you saw a strange glint in the man's eyes, "I'll go get Mike. He probably want to see it first."

Before you can protest, Mr. Hanlon ignored your words and closed the door before your face. You sighed through your mouth.

You perked up, hearing conversation through the door. It was loud, but the deliverance sounded like it was meant to be quiet. You idly twiddled your thumb, trying to shut your ears from the conversation.

Then, the door abruptly opened and your eyes widened in surprise. However, you relaxed upon seeing a familiar face. You gave sheepish smile to the door-man. "Hey, funny seeing you here."

No less than you expected, it was Mike. But he looked flushed, as if drained from doing something. He gave you a strained smile, "Hi, (Y/N). Sorry if my grandpa scared you."

"Oh, no, no," You denied, "He didn't scare me off. You're fine, Mike."

He exhaled, "Thanks. Anyways, what are you here for?"

Heat immediately rushed itself unto your cheeks. "Um.." You brought up the towel in your hand, "I forgot to gave this back to you."

Mike seemed surprised by the sight of the towel, "Oh, I totally forgot about it! Sorry for the extra laundry work, (Y/N)."

He gave you a guilty look, but you shook your head.

"It's okay, Mike. You aren't a bother to me." You said with a shy smile, and passed the towel to him. He took it and for a brief moment, your hands made contact with each other.

Butterflies churned in your stomach, and you ignored it as Mike received it. You looked at him, and your eyes met. You gave him a shy smile, cheeks blazing. He gave you one back in return, and you spot his fingers slightly playing with the towel.

For a moment, you can't help but feel a sense of yearning. When you looked at Mike, the feeling intensified. Words formed on your tongue and you were desperate to get it out.

"I guess I gotta--"

"Wait, Mike!" You said, gripping the doorframe even though he didn't swing the door. You let go of it, embarrassed by your action. "Uhm.."

Finally, you braced yourself to spill the words. You had enough of keeping it a secret, and your heart pounded against your ears as you began to talk.

"Listen, Mike, I.. You're really cool and amazing. And I'll never regret the choice of getting to know you. So, at first, I didn't really want to say this because I'm kinda scared you'll leave me for it. But we can live past this if you don't feel the same.." You paused for a moment, drawing in a breath and letting the words soak into Mike.

You looked at him in the eyes, your cheeks flaming, "I like you, Mike. Like, more than a friend."

You twiddled with your thumb and looked to the ground as you await his answer, already expecting the worse. But when you looked up, Mike was shocked.

His eyes were wide and his mouth kept repeatedly closing and opening, looking like a fish out of water. Finally, after a few seconds, he seemed to gain his bearing.

"(Y-Y/N), I--!" Mike took a breath, "I like you, too! More than a friend, that's for sure."

Your eyes widened, before your lips split into an unabashed smile.

"Really?!" You asked with a high-pitched tone. Mike feverishly nodded and you immediately hugged him, beyond the moon and squealing in delight.

"You're not kidding, right?" You asked him again, in disbelief. Mike shook his head and chuckled at your reaction. This time, you let past a few happy giggles, embracing Mike fully.

You bit your lip, before looking up to Mike. He was looking at you with so much admiration that your stomach churned at the sight.

Mike Hanlon, the boy you had been crushing for over a month, returned your feelings. You smiled to yourself, the undeniable feeling of happiness swelling in you.

"Can we..?" You shyly asked, vaguely referring to Mike and your lips. He seemed flushed by your question, but he nodded. His hands on your waist suddenly tightened, as if he was waiting for your next move.

You smiled, and ignored the heat on your cheeks. You cupped Mike's face and slowly brought your faces closer, and your breath was taken away when his and your lips were connected.

The kiss was short, but you were still over the moon. Your heart beat out of control as you two disconnected, gazing into each other with admiration and amazement.

_"Mike! Come back here and help me!"_

The magic air were broken by the shout in the farmhouse, as Mike exhaled while you smiled at him.

"I guess your name really lives up to the expectation, Prince Charming." You teased him, and he shyly laughed, his cheeks flushed.

"You're not bad either, Cinderella." He teased you back, and you fake an flattered gasp.

"Thank you~!" You said with a flirty tone, teasing him with a wink. Mike laughed, before he glanced at his back.

"Well, I should go," He said, a sad smile on his lips, "My grandpa will get angry."

You nodded in understanding. However, before Mike returned back into the farmhouse, you sneaked a peck on his left cheek. You held a chuckle at his flustered reaction. You skipped away from the farmhouse, before turning back.

"See you later, Mike!" You said with a mischievous grin, feigning innocence and waved at the boy.

The boy could only gave you a love-sick smile.

* * *


	21. SLOT 6: EDDIE KASPBRAK

Knees weak, arms heavy, you were sure you had vomited on your sweater already.

Christmas was due in a week, and here you were, bedridden with a high fever. A damp towel reside on your forehead.

Your eyes were heavy, yet you can't fall asleep. The headache in your brain was too much, and you would've yelled out in frustration but the activity took too much of your energy.

You breathed in and out, wishing there were painkillers. Unfortunately, your mother believed letting you eat pills at such a young age would ruin your growth rate. And so, she just let you suffer.

Words seemed to reach to your group, as Bill and Richie had visited you once. But your brother nearly kicked Richie out as the trashmouth was a bit too loud.

After that, your friends would come to visit usually. Mike came in to check on you, Ben would change your towel when your sister forgot to do so. Stan tried helping you go to sleep by reading a few words from the _Torah_'s book, and that seemed to be the only option to help your brain relax.

But Eddie was the only one to not visit you. In a way, it stung your heart yet you can't blame him. You were a sick person and Eddie would --no doubt-- avoid you until you were better. Yet, you can't forget about him.

Stan had visited you again, and he started reading the lines from the _Torah _book again. But despite the lulling words, there was a question stuck in the back of your mind.

"Hey, Stan..?" You softly called out to him, your voice scratchy, "Is Eddie okay..?"

He stopped reading when you called his name, and after your question, he looked perplexed. "Yeah, he's okay. Why'd you ask?"

You gripped your blanket's edges, looking away from Stan's figure, "I just.. haven't seen him.. in a long time.."

Stan seemed to pity you, but then, a devious grin came upon his face, "Oh, it's okay, (Y/N). He doesn't come to visit you but he'll ask us a bunch of questions until he's satisfied."

You perked up, a newfound heat rushing into your cheeks that wasn't your fever, "Really? Is he really that concerned?"

Stan smiled, "Believe me, he's worried about you. He always asks us if you're eating right or resting right."

Butterflies rushed its way onto your stomach. Your heart beat out of control as you imagined Eddie's concerned face, talking miles per hour as he asked your friends about you.

After Stan had took his leave, you were still pondering about Eddie, and bits of guilt entered you.

This was your fault, wasn't it? For catching feelings too fast for Eddie.

* * *

3 days before Christmas, you had expected the day to be usual. But life seemed to have a surprise for you.

Someone knocked on the door to your room, and you perked up. The door swung open to show your brother, gripping the door-knob as if ready to take his leave.

"Somebody's visiting you again," He said, "I know that kid with glasses but who's his friend?"

Your heart leaped to your throat, already realizing who it was. "Just let them in.." You told your brother, and he shrugged before closing the door.

After a few moment, footsteps neared the door again before it was knocked again. "Come in!" You tried to yell, but it only scratches your voice more.

The door swung open, and you instantly smiled. Without a doubt, it was Richie with his usual grin, but his partner was the one to catch your eyes.

Eddie stood awkwardly next to Richie, offering you a small smile. You gave one back in return, to clarify you weren't mad at him.

"What's _crackalacking_, my guy?!" Richie said with an air of comical joke. You chuckled.

"My body, Rich. Anyways, what are you guys here for?" You inquired, as the two boys sat on the ground.

"Nothin' much," Richie started, before patting Eddie in the back, his grin widening, "Some guy finally got his balls back, I can tell you that!"

"S-shut up!" Eddie protested, embarrassed. You chuckled as the boy looked away, guilt painting his features. You shyly smiled.

"It's okay, Eddie," You told him, "I'm not mad at you for not visiting me. At least you're here now."

"See, what'd I told ya?" Richie gloated to the germaphobe, and Eddie sighed, as if a great burden were lifted from his back from your statement.

"What do you guys come here for?" You asked, with a slight slur as you began to fell sleepy, "I don't think I can.. be up for long.."

"Well, Dr. K," Richie announced in a serious, British voice, "Your patient needs your utmost attention at once! Off you go, my fellow!"

You managed to chuckle through the cloudy haze. Eddie rolled his eyes as he shook his head, nearing your bedside enough to see the details on your face. Yet, your eyes can't say the same.

"You look really blurry, Eds.." You blurted out, too lazy to fix your words-filter. He smiled, almost endearingly, as if amused by your slurred speech.

"I'll be out, then," Richie loudly announced, as he saw the tension between you two, "Take care of her for me, Dr. K!"

Eddie exasperatedly sighed, "Shut up and get out already."

You almost protest and stood up, but your brain gave you waves upon waves of migraine, making you wince before you can even sat up. You guiltily looked at the door.

"Hey," Eddie softly called you, and from behind him, he took something that rattled. It made you confused and curious. Eddie turned back to you to show the items in his hand: your medicines and..

"Where did you get that painkiller?" You asked, stunned. Indeed, in his left hand, there was a set of painkillers, ready to use. It made you salivate.

"I kept all those stuff I stole at the clinic, back in June," Eddie said, bringing out the dash of painkillers before you. His nail penetrated the silver barrier from the white pill and he gave it to you. You took it with almost shaky hand.

Eddie quickly snatched the water bottle by your bedside, and it made you a bit impressed as the germaphobe didn't flinch in the slightest.

He opened the cap for you, and you put the pill in your mouth. In one swallow, the painkiller was now in your system. You exhaled in relief, before passing a grateful smile to Eddie.

"Thanks, I was having a terrible time with the headaches." You lay down on your bed and exhaled in relief again. Eddie sat down back on the ground.

After a moment of silence, you contemplated about Richie. You sent a glance to Eddie, who was cutely laying his head on the side of your bed. A twinge of guilt and pining pulsed in your heart, yet the overwhelming feeling of guilt surrounded you. Here you were, pining for Eddie Kaspbrak while Richie was doing the same.

There was no possible choice that could not hurt Richie. You don't care what you feel about yourself, you only care for Richie's wellbeing. He deserves a better friend, unlike you, who caught feelings for his crush.

"I'm sorry." Eddie suddenly said, snapping you out from your guilt-induced daydream. He looked up to you, arms underneath his chin as his puppy eyes melted your heart again, "I swear I tried to visit you but.."

You slightly shook your head, "Like I said, it's okay, Eddie. I understand you're uncomfortable about me, a sick person."

"No, no, it's not that," Eddie said, suddenly agitated. You thought he was getting angry but he seemed to look anxious, "I tried to visit you but my mom.. When I told her you got a cold when I was about to visit you, she got paranoid and basically put me in house-arrest. Again. Actually, I'm not even supposed to be out right now, I sneaked out from my house when my mom wasn't looking on me so--"

You stopped his rambling by simply putting your hand up gently. Eddie stared at your hand before flicking to your eyes, waiting for your response.

"So, you're not afraid of me?" You asked, curious. Eddie shook his head, and a smile blossomed on your lips as heat rushed unto your cheeks. "You're not.. weirded out by me?"

"No!" Eddie suddenly yelled out, but he repeated it, more softly and calm, "No."

For four days, you really had thought Eddie was disgusted by you. But now, seeing him clear all your doubts away into a thin dust, butterflies rushed again into you.

"Hug it out?" You inquired, bringing your hands up to the side. Eddie smiled, and nodded.

"Hug it out."

And so, you embraced the germaphobe in your arms, giggling for no reason. Having a physical contact with someone who wasn't your family member was... _something_. You don't know how to explain the feeling but it was a nice feeling.

You pulled away from Eddie, looking into his eyes as he stared at you back, his hands slowly pulling away from your body. You giggled again, and Eddie automatically joined you, his lips turning into a smile before he chuckled.

"Sorry if you suddenly got a cold." You sheepishly said, after the giggles were out. Eddie shrugged, surprising you again.

"It's just a cold. It'll go away." He said, smiling casually. You stared at him with an amazed gaze.

"Who are you and what have you done to the real Eddie?" You teasingly asked, before breaking into a grin. Eddie slightly chuckled, and you two conversed as if those four days of distance didn't happened.

* * *

Richie visited you again, and Eddie was with him again. Now, your head were a bit clear and you can loudly laugh without your brain pounding in pain.

"Really?" You asked Eddie, fascinated by his story, "Please don't tell me you're lying, because that sounds kinda cool."

Eddie shook his head enthusiastically, "Nope, I'm not lying. I told her I found out about it and she got defensive. After that, I just stormed out of my house."

Currently, Eddie was telling the story where he ran away from his house to join your gang to defeat It, back in August. Turns out, his pills were fake and his mother had veiled him with the thoughts of Eddie being sick and weak. It made you angry, as Eddie is one of the strongest person you knew.

"Your mom probably got tired of your ass." Richie snarked, and the germaphobe flipped him off. You laughed, missing the way Eddie looked at you endearingly.

Suddenly, his watch beeped on his hand, taking the attention of everyone.

"Ah, shit," Eddie suddenly realized, and he looked down to his hand before looking at you and Richie, "Isn't it time for you to eat? I'll go get the food."

"Thanks, Eddie." You called out to him as he exit the door, before he closed it. Inside your head, you realized something about the germaphobe.

"When did Eddie knew about my schedule?" You asked Richie, confused. So far, only Ben and your family members knew the time when you need to drink your medicine and eat your meal.

Richie grinned, as if he knew something you didn't know. He casually leaned on his hands behind his back and shrugged before telling you his story, "Yesterday, he asked your _bro_ for your schedule. I think Eddie weirded him out but your _sis _gave him the times. If my blind-ass aren't wrong, Eddie set his watch to those times. I dunno, ask him."

Butterflies rushed into your stomach, thinking about the scenario. You can't help but to chuckle, and heat rushed unto your cheeks. You could only think Eddie, concentrated as he listened to your sister while setting the times on his watch.

You suddenly remembered Richie's presence, and snapped out of it. You looked your face away, giving Richie an awkward smile.

"You like him, don'tcha?" Richie suddenly broke the ice. At first, you didn't believe the words he spoke before cold panic dawned on you.

"No!" You yelled out, panicked. "I-I don't like Eddie _like that_! I. . ."

You guiltily looked down, ashamed to be caught by Richie himself. You await for his harsh words, yet it didn't came.

"I'm sorry, Richie," You softly told him, guilt overwhelming you again, "But I will not make a move on him. He's all yours."

Richie scoffed, throwing his head back, and your hands twitched in nervous over the sound.

"What is this, some corny-ass love-triangle movie?" He spoke, and you looked at him with anxiety.

However, much to your shock, Richie was _smiling_. When you looked at his eyes for any hint of his _true _emotions, you realized this _was _his true emotion. Confidence.

"You think Eddie's a property?" Richie drawled, causing heat to rush unto your ears from embarrassment.

"N-no, he's not--"

"Good," Richie declared with a serious face, "Because Eddie can make his own decisions. And I don't need to lie to you, because he _likes you back_, (Y/N). I'll be pissed if you reject him just because I liked him too."

"B-but, I thought. . ." You trailed, brainstorming a bit before you found the words you wanted to say, "I thought you like Eddie. That's why. . That's why I held back."

"Because you're scared you're gonna hurt me, (N/N)?" Richie inquired gently, using the nickname he gave you. You nodded, your hands twirling each other. Richie smiled softly.

"Well, seeing as I'm giving you a pep talk to get some dick, I don't think I'm hurt. I'll be more hurt if you reject Eddie." He admitted, smiling reassuringly.

You smiled sheepishly at Richie, ignoring his vulgar words.

"Plus," Richie added, looking the side before he looked back at you with a smirk, "I kinda found someone else. So you better tell me you like Eddie back, (Y/N)."

Before you can answer, the door was suddenly opened, interrupting your speech. Eddie stood on the door with a tray in his hands, and he slowly walked to you.

"Here you go." He muttered to you when he arrived by your bedside, putting the tray on your thighs. It consisted of a porridge with bread, and you noticed the juice box that wasn't in your menu. Your medicines were on the tray but Eddie took it.

He exhaled in relief, "Jeez, finding your meds was hard. Why did your mom put it in your fridge?"

You chuckled, hands gripping the side of the porridge's bowl, "I think that's my brother. He always does that."

You gripped the juice box before you shook it. "I don't think I can drink sweet stuff now, Eds."

"Nah, it's okay," Eddie said, as he proceeded to sat back down on the ground, next to Richie. "Your dad allowed it."

"You talked to my dad?!" You asked in shock. Eddie shrugged.

"Though, he didn't knew what to do so he asked your mom, and she told me I can give you those juice boxes in your fridge."

"Oh, my god. . ." You muttered in disbelief, embarrassment biting you back. Richie blew a raspberry.

"You think that's awkward? Imagine me fucking your mom, (Y/N)--"

"Shut up, Rich." You told him, pouting as your face heat up. Eddie slightly laughed before covering it with a cough.

* * *

2 days before Christmas, Eddie's visiting you more frequently had brought your mood up. Of course, no doubt, Richie accompanied him.

"Are your house gonna be open for Christmas?" Eddie asked you, and you gave your answer. He nodded, respecting your answer.

"I think my whole house smells like a fratboy's asshole, with all those ginger and cinnamon my mom use for her cookies." Richie bluntly spoke, leaning on his hand. You and Eddie laughed.

Eddie shrugged when you asked him if his house will be open for Christmas, "My mom's kinda wary about Christmas. Said something about disease can come easier if you're sharing food with other people."

"She always think we rolled in shit or somethin' before coming to her house," Richie snarked, and you shook your head.

"Filter mode, Richie."

"What? It's true!" He protested. He looked outside through the window in your room, before standing up. "Well, I gotta go, my fellow fucksapiens. Mom's probably gonna need me to take care of Sue."

Sue --or Susannah-- was Richie's 4 year-old sister, but you haven't met her yet. You nodded, understanding Richie's decision.

However, Eddie gave Richie a panicked glare, as the trashmouth sent you two finger-guns. 

The door closed behind him, and you chuckled. "He always end his speech with a bang."

Eddie smiled, before looking at you. His smile dropped before heat rushed to his tan cheeks. He cleared his throat, "By the way, can you walk now?"

You nodded enthusiastically. "I can finally go to the bathroom without help. _And_, I won't have to eat the same-old boring porridge again."

"That's good," Eddie smiled endearingly, "Are your headaches still happening?"

"Yeah, but it's slowly going away." You told him, "Do I score a hundred on your test, Dr. K?"

You teased him, using the nickname Richie had used on him. Eddie blushed at the nickname, before he rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Patient 69." He teased back, and you two chuckled. Remembering Richie's words, you blushed.

Staring into Eddie's form, the feeling of pining you have for him increased ten times, but this time, there was no guilt or shame accompanying you. Now, it was only infatuation.

"Um, Eddie?" You hesitantly asked him, the heat on your cheeks still available, "Can I say something?"

"What is it?" He softly asked, seeing your hesitation openly displayed before him. "Whatever it is, I won't judge."

You smiled, appreciating his kind words. Your hands fidgeted as you spoke, "Um, I've been holding this in for a long time. . . At first, I really didn't knew what to do with it but a friend helped me out a lot lately. And. . They really gave me a piece of confidence."

Your words were a bit fixed from the truth, but you wanted to keep the privacy of Richie's identity. Plus, with the way Eddie tilted his head like a puppy, you don't think he was focused on the 'friend'.

You breathed in and out, before looking at Eddie in the eyes, "I. . I like you, Eds. Romantically, I mean. And-and um--" You stuttered and looked away from him, trying to find the words, "And if you don't feel the same, I understand. Um.."

You stared at Eddie, awaiting his answer. However, Eddie didn't answer, his eyes were the only give-away for his emotions.

It was shock. Pure shock before he snapped out of his trance. He suddenly stood up, surprising you.

"What--"

"I like you too, (Y/N)!" He basically yelled out with an embarrassed face. He calmed down, but he didn't sat down, "U-um, I. . Kinda also had been having this feeling for a bit. But I didn't act on it because. ."

He trailed off, and you looked at him expectation.

"Because. . .?"

"Because I thought you liked Richie," Eddie admitted, and that made you surprised. Eddie swallowed, his adam apple bobbed, "But he told me you like me back. At first, I didn't believe him because --y'know, he's a little shit or he's just messing with me-- but then, he got really pissed off when I told him I can't tell you about my feelings and. . He threatened to tell you if I didn't do it. Dick move, I know-- and then--"

"Calm down, Eds," You told him softly, noticing his breath was running short. His rambles stopped as his fast talking ceased. Eddie took a breath and he sat back down on the ground.

"Sorry," He muttered, "My brain's a bit full."

You smiled, more relaxed. "It's okay, Eddie."

For a moment, you contemplated on what to do. When you saw the way Eddie's face was so relaxed, you opted to do something.

"Can I?" You asked him, nearing the boy. Eddie nodded, giving you a silent consent. You cupped his face and you saw the way he looked at you, full with infatuation and expectation. It was like Eddie's heart were about to burst from his puppy eyes.

You were tempted to just held his cheeks, yet you knew what to do. Eddie's eyes light up as you leaned toward him, and you both closed your eyes as your lips were connected.

Your stomach churned, as butterflies rapidly flap their wings around your heart. You can feel the movement of Eddie's lips, and a sudden taste of sweet-sour orange.

You two parted, panting for air. You still held onto Eddie, and you swore you felt the way your eyes turned into cartoon hearts. Eddie grinned, and it looked as if he was in a daze.

"You look like an idiot." You told him lovingly, smiling endearingly. Eddie slightly chuckled.

He looked back at you, smiling with absolute adoration in his eyes, "Yeah, but I'm _your _idiot."

You giggled before it was transformed into a laugh. You hugged Eddie, and he hugged you back.

* * *


	22. SLOT 7: BEN HANSCOM

School had start again. By now, at the age of thirteen, Junior Prom was slowly approaching. It will be held at December 15th, and you heard Eddie was recruited to be one of the managers. How he had gotten the job, you never knew. Though, Bill seemed to joke that the boy's strict attitude can be scary. 

Your group had hang out in Ben's home, but the others had left. Now, it was only you and Ben, talking about the nearing event. 

"I don't think I have a dress," You admitted to him, pursing your lips, "I guess I have to check my sister's closet. She is more fashionable than me." 

"I guess I have it easy," Ben said, before he shrugged, "I'll just wear a plain tux and that makes me fashionable, according to my mom." 

You slightly chuckled, "I'm sure you'll look fine, Ben." 

He smiled, appreciating your compliment, "Thanks." 

However, you spot a troubled expression on Ben as he stared unto the space of his bedroom. You frowned. 

"Ben, what's wrong?"

That was an innocent question from you, but it meant the world to Ben. The boy snapped out of his haze, slightly stuttered to answer your question, but you were patient.

"I, um..."

There was a wall of hesitation and embarrassment in Ben, pushing him away to voice his problem. 

"I kinda.. Nervous for _Junior Prom_..."

He finally said. It was partially true, but it was not the main reason. Junior Prom can be a nightmare and a dream to 13 and 15 year-olds. But to Ben, it was a nightmare.

"Oh," You let out a sound of acknowledgment. You patted Ben gently in the back, causing him to slightly blushed, "It's okay, Ben. It's not terrible like you think, it'll be fun."

"B-but it's just that----" Ben stopped, catching himself before he confessed his real concern. He swallowed, "I just.. Don't know how to dance."

Ben mentally hit himself in the head, as you acknowledged his problem.

"Hey, no one will be looking at you," You said, smiling gently at him, "They'll be too caught up in their own business."

"I don't know..." Ben replied, doubt in his tone. You caught his doubt, before an idea sparked in your head. 

You grinned at Ben, "I can teach you how to dance." 

"Wait, really?!" Ben let out, shocked. You slightly chuckled at his enthusiasm as he looked away in embarrassment. You nodded, reassuring him. 

"Yep," You said, before pointing to yourself with your thumb, "Just trust Chiropractor (Y/N) on this!"

"That's not what a chiropractor is, (Y/N)..."

"Wait, it isn't?" 

* * *

_DAY-1_

"So, which dance are we going to do?" Ben inquired. 

Currently, you two were in your room. Ben had brought papers with him, and you slightly laughed at his own over-preparing. 

"I don't know what it's called, but I can tell you how to do it." You told him, before prepping up a boombox on your desk. Ben perked up at the device as you set it on. 

Slowly, a familiar song began to play, echoing throughout your room. 

"Whitney Houston?" Ben asked you, smiling. You nodded, grinning. Sure enough, Whitney Houston's song, _I Wanna Dance with Somebody, _started. 

You brought your hand out to Ben in a curtsy manner, grinning impishly, "May I have this dance, good sir?" 

He chuckled, before nodding. His hand took yours, and it made you slightly blushed. And so, you began to teach the awkward boy. 

"Here, step your foot out," You instructed to Ben. You avoided his look, a bit aware of your physical contact. But you pushed it aside, solely focused on teaching Ben. 

The boy followed your instruction, but his action seemed a bit awkward.

"Hey, no hesitating. C'mon, let's do it again." 

Ben slightly chuckled, grabbing your attention. However, the boy seemed embarrassed by his own action. 

"Sorry, defense mechanism." 

You shook your head, before smiling at him, "It's okay, you're doing fine. After you step your foot out, made sure to grab my waist and twirl slowly."

Ben nodded. His action took place, as he brought forward his foot and he grabbed your waist, and your limbs automatically began to twirl with him.

You slightly marveled at the feeling. Even for a short second, it felt nice.

You unconsciously slipped out a giggle, as Ben chuckled. His grip on your waist began to loosen, and you two broke apart.

"You're a quick learner, Ben," You praised him, grinning, hands on your hips, "Let's try that again and I'll teach you the next step."

And so, your hands found each other again. You laughed at Ben's mistakes before correcting him, and with each flourish of his actions, you found yourself smiling at his growing confidence.

After the dance practice, you put a halt to the background music. You turned back to Ben and found him, deeply engrossed on taking notes. You smiled, a surge of serotonin swelling in you.

"Hey, Ben," You called him, and he looked up from his note, "Do you have a date for prom?"

The question might've been too shocking for him, as Ben opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. You stay patient, curious.

He looked down to his note before awkwardly chuckling, "I'll - uh- I'll tell you about it tomorrow."

"Ooh, cliffhanger," You teased, grinning, "I understand. They must be some big-shot if you're keeping it a secret." 

Ben chuckled, yet there was an edge to it. 

* * *

_DAY-2_

"Make sure to keep your body balanced," You told Ben, as you two were locked in a dance-position, "Use your left foot and use it to hold you and your partner's weights."

"Like this?" Ben asked, and he put his left feet back. You nodded, smiling.

"Yep. So when your partner lean on you, you don't fall down."

You instructed Ben to show what you had taught him. He brought his left foot to the front and grabbed tight to your wrist, before spinning you slowly. After doing so, you retracted your body back into his arms as his arm situated itself unto your back. You leaned close to Ben, hands on his shoulder, and unlike last time, you two were evenly balanced.

You chuckled, "See, now we both didn't fell." 

Ben joined your laughter, "That was my fault. Beginner and all." 

"No, you're fine now." You told him, beaming. You unlatched yourself from Ben as he did the same.

You carelessly threw yourself on your bed, sighing in relief to meet the soft texture. You looked toward Ben as he sat himself down on the ground, before bringing his bag toward him.

"Do you think others already got a partner?" You asked Ben, your head laying on your palm. Ben looked up to you and shrugged.

"Bill told me he got a partner. Don't know who it is, though."

"Well, I heard Richie got a partner, too," You told the boy, and Ben's curious expression almost made you laugh, "Can't believe he hit the jackpot with Eddie's mom."

Ben perked up at your joke before he laughed. You chuckled, proud of your own terrible joke.

"What about you?" Ben asked you with a smile. Your smile dropped, confused by his question.

"Huh?"

"Do you have a partner for prom?"

The question made you froze, before you laugh it off with a forced smile. "Nah, I don't have a date."

"Really?" Ben let out with shock, surprised by your confession. "_You _don't have a date?"

"Hey, no need to brag about your partner," You teased him with a slight grin. Ben's cheeks reddened, as he looked away.

"Oh, sorry.."

"No harm's done, my guy," You shrugged it off with a smile. "Now, you promised to tell me about your date. Who is it?"

Ben's mind short-circuited at your question. For a good five seconds, he contemplated whether to come clean. And he did, seeing no purpose to lie to you anymore.

"I, uh, I kinda lied about that." He sheepishly admitted, "I don't have a partner, too."

Your eyes widened in surprise, before you straightened up your body without realizing it, "Then.. Why did you lie?"

"I guess I was just trying to look cool," Ben reasoned quickly with an embarrassed smile. "I didn't want to look like a loser."

You frowned, "Even if you don't have a date, that doesn't make you a loser, Ben."

"I know," He softly spoke, "That was dumb for me to say."

"Hey," You spoke before getting out your bed. You squat down on your knees in front of Ben, before putting your hands on his shoulder, "It doesn't matter. You're fine, Ben. You're still a cool person in my and other's eyes."

He slightly blushed at your words, before smiling, "Thanks, (Y/N)."

You smiled, before sitting back on your bed, "Besides, aren't we all losers? If you're a loser, then that makes all of us losers, too. Don't put yourself down too much, Ben. You're worth it."

The boy looked at you in surprise, shocked by your words. That wall of doubt and embarrassment. inside him began to fall, and Ben shyly smiled.

"You're too nice, (Y/N)."

You shook it off, blowing a raspberry, "There's no such thing called 'being too nice'. It's called basic self-care, Ben."

The boy took your words for it, and he smiled genuinely, "Thank you."

You grinned, "No problem, my guy."

* * *

_DAY-4_

For the past two days, you had taught Ben to dance. Alongside with your reassurance and genuine compliments, Ben's confidence began to grew.

But it wasn't until he was brave enough to ask you the question stuck in his mind.

Ben knew he was undesirable. One glance at his appearance, no one would want him. Before he had moved into Derry, he had dealt with one rejection, and it was enough to permanently left him insecure.

Looking back on it, he could only felt guilty. He didn't blame his past crush, since Ben knew he would also reject himself. And it hurt, but it was the truth.

Ben knew he was catching feelings. For you, and only you. And it made him a bit afraid, as he was sure he would be greeted with the same rejection. And frankly, he'll rather face the sun than risking to make your relationship awkward.

It was another day learning to dance with you, and despite the three days he had spent with you, Ben still feel the same nauseating tornado in his stomach.

"Today, you'll be learning how to dip," You spoke, opening the same song from Whitney Houston. By now, Ben was sure you had no other songs whatsoever. He only blankly nodded to your words.

You spot his glassy look as the background music started. You bit your lips, before shutting the music. Ben perked up at this action. You looked at him, leaning on your desk. 

"Ben, what's wrong?" You asked with a concerned frown, "You look.. Sad."

Ben momentarily felt a bit of guilt and anxiety in his system, and he unconsciously played with his fingers. "I.. I don't know."

"We can skip today's lesson if you feel out of it." You suggested to him, but Ben shook his head.

"No, no, it's not that," He quickly denied, as the familiar melancholic expression plastered on his face again, "I just... I mean, no offense but this is kinda pointless."

You frowned, "Why?"

"C'mon," Ben unintentionally said with frustration and exasperation, "I don't even have a partner for prom. Who am I gonna go out with? The wind?"

Ben scoffed at his own remark, yet you still see the sad face on his features. An idea dropped itself down on you, and you grinned.

"I got a solution," You spoke, grin still intact. Ben looked up to you in surprise as you sat down on the ground, by Ben's feet. "I'll be your prom date."

Ben's eyes widened, before he panicked, "No!"

Your face fell, and you tilted your head like a confused puppy. "Am I that bad?"

"N-no, it's not-- You're not bad at all!" Ben quickly argued your statement, "I-it's just.."

You stared at Ben, patient for his next sentence as he gathered his will and words.

"I'm not.. a suitable prom partner," Ben softly admitted, "I mean--" He sighed softly, "I don't deserve you as my prom partner and.. Everyone will make fun of you."

You stared at him, with shock and sadness. Then, you angrily frowned. You stood up, grabbed Ben's shoulders and forced him to look at you in the eyes.

"Ben!" You yelled, and for a moment, he was afraid he had pissed you off, but your next words didn't bring any harm to him. It only did the opposite, "You.. Are the most talented, amazing and cool person I've ever met! You are so dedicated in everything you do and you're also smart! And me and the others will stick with you no matter what you do! And we'll always view you as our friend! And no, you deserve a prom partner who's good and amazing, like you!"

You panted, catching your breath as Ben looked at you akin to admiration. Your aggressive shout of positivity stopped as you sat next to him. You looked at him with the same angry frown, but Ben didn't felt a sliver of fear after hearing your positive speech.

"You're worth a diamond, Ben," You spoke, and your angry expression dropped, replacing it with a confident smile, "Trust me, if you love yourself for who you are, everything you see as a big deal about yourself is insignificant to others. You're amazing as you are, Ben."

This time, Ben truly took your words. He truly trusted you, as he shyly yet happily smiled.

He wiped his eyes, noticing it becoming a bit misty. He slightly chuckled while doing so, before looking back at you with the same genuine admiration and happiness.

"Thank you, (Y/N)," He spoke, and for a brief moment, he felt a mounting surge of confidence in him. He contemplated whether to tell you his feelings, and Ben finally made a solid choice. He didn't felt hesitation or fear in him anymore. "Can I tell you something?"

"You can tell me anything," You said to him with a smile. Ben felt warmth rush to his cheeks, yet he persisted.

"I think I... Actually, no, I.. like you."

Your smile fell, as Ben continued, "I know, awkward timing. But if you don't like me back, we can move past this."

Ben felt the same fear and anxiety rushing into his veins, yet he stood silent as he await your answer. After a moment, Ben felt the fear began to paralyze him. The last time someone was this quiet, it was his father who was reviewing his outfit choice. And it was a negative response.

"Uh--"

"Ben, I--" You two spoke at the same time, and he gestured for you to speak first. You took a deep breath.

"I like you, too." You answered his confession, and he almost didn't believe his ears. You continued as Ben's face was marred with shock, "The reason I had taught you how to dance was because, I kinda hope you would be my partner."

Ben mentally face-palmed at his old lie, and he looked at you. You were smiling, beaming, and Ben swore he saw a halo on your head.

"You mean to tell me, if I was honest in the first place, I could've get you as my partner sooner?" Ben slightly joked, and you laughed. He smiled, before chuckling.

"But it was worth it, right?" You inquired to him with a grin. Ben feverishly nodded.

"Very worth it."

You two were enveloped in a comfortable silence, and you glanced Ben. You smiled again. 

"Hey," You called out to him in a whisper, "Can I?"

You gestured to your and his lips, and Ben momentarily blushed. However, he smiled and eagerly nodded. 

You grabbed his face gently, and that easily made Ben into a puddle. He wait for your lips, and when it did arrived, you both closed your eyes to savour the moment.

Frankly, he was inexperienced, as this was Ben's first kiss. However, he still tried to reciprocate the kiss despite his limited experience.

You two broke apart, as you held Ben's cheeks. Your eyes told him a thousand words he can't describe, and that made Ben's heart swarm with butterflies.

You were looking at him as if he was a diamond, like a peridot in a barren land. And Ben unconsciously lean into your touch.

You chuckled at the cute motion, "You're like a cat."

"Am I a cute cat?" Ben unhesitatingly asked, smiling slightly. You laughed and feverishly nodded.

"Very much so." 

* * *


End file.
